


Sabotage

by LastWill



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-07-27 08:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7611118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LastWill/pseuds/LastWill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A colony ship called the Ulysses goes missing and the Enterprise is asked to assist in a rescue mission. Dr. McCoy also feels like he needs to be rescued- from himself. Spock/Bones</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Sabotage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10781385) by [AURORAandNOBODY](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AURORAandNOBODY/pseuds/AURORAandNOBODY)



“Captain,” Sulu said looking over his shoulder. “We’ll be in Kornephoros by mid-afternoon.”

 

“My favorite system.” McCoy said with a smile.

 

“Why, what’s in Kornephoros?” Jim asked him with a smirk.

 

“You poor, ignorant, sweet summer child.” McCoy teased. He shook his head in mock disgust. “The best restaurants in any known galaxy are there. You’ve really never heard of Alcor VII?”

 

“I’m afraid not, but I’m starting to regret it.” Jim replied.

 

“Then it’s settled, we’re spending our shore leave on Alcor VII.” McCoy said. “I’ll pay for dinner if you can look me in the eye and say you haven’t ate the best meal of your life there.”

 

“Careful Bones, I might con myself into a free meal.” Jim said.

 

“Not a chance.” McCoy laughed. “The steaks in this restaurant I go are so good they’d make even Spock weep with pleasure.”

 

“Your use of hyperbole is not appreciated, Doctor.” Spock replied dryly.

 

“It’s not hyperbole if it’s true, Spock.” McCoy picked on him. “You’re invited to come along to prove me wrong...that is if you’re not too intimidated.”

 

“You’re setting yourself up for failure. I am a vegetarian.” Spock reminded them.

 

“Sure, you are now,” McCoy said. “But once you hear the juices sizzling-”

 

“Captain,” Uhura said interrupting their conversation. “I’m getting an urgent call from Starfleet.”

 

“Patch them through.” Jim ordered. His com button lit up and he pressed it. “Kirk here.” Jim said in greeting.

 

“Captain Kirk,” it was the voice of Commander Radcliffe Truitt, and he sounded rather cheerless. “You’re close to the Forty-Eyed Nebula, aren’t you?” he asked.

 

“Yes Commander, we’ll be approaching it in just a few hours.” Jim replied.

 

“Good. We’re going to need the Enterprise to help in a possible rescue mission.” Truitt informed him.

 

“Possible? Go on, I’m listening.” Jim said with a frown.

 

“A colony ship called the _Ulysses_ hasn’t arrived on the planet Neviah. We’ve been told it’s three solar days off schedule. We think something caused it to go off-course.” Truitt said.

 

“When and where was the last time the _Ulysses_ communicated with anyone?” Jim asked.

 

“They reached out to their contacts on Neviah a week ago. I’ll send you the coordinates of its last known position. We know they entered the Forty-Eyed Nebula and issued no distress call or expressed anything out of the ordinary.” Truitt said. “Starfleet is sending scouting vessels to confirm their whereabouts but it’ll take half a day for them to reach the coordinates. You’re our closest ship in the area.”

 

“We’ll assist in any way that we can.” Jim promised.

 

“Thank you.” Truitt said. “And Jim…”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Check in regularly, will you? We can’t rule out the possibility of an attack.” Truitt said.

 

“We will. Kirk out.” Jim said. He turned regretfully to McCoy. “I guess that steak will have to wait.”

 

* * *

 

 

Uhura had been sending an emergency broadcast across and beyond the nebula as they scoured for the _Ulysses_. After going through the entire route, they circled back and began scanning areas off-course. It wasn’t until they were nearly out of the nebula that they found something.

 

“Captain, our sensors are picking up on a ship.” Spock announced. “44-mark-320-mark-9.”

 

“Take us there, Mr. Sulu.” Jim ordered.

 

“Yes sir.” Sulu replied.

 

“There.” Jim said pointing. “That’s got to be the _Ulysses_.”

 

“If she’s on the way to Neviah she’s gone way off course.” Chekov said checking the coordinates.

 

It was indeed the ship, and they watched it with trepidation as it came further into view.

 

“Is she ship listing?” Jim asked as he swayed in his chair slightly.

 

“Negative. The _Ulysses_ is stable, engines appear fully functional.” Spock said reading his scanner.

 

“It’s bigger than some space stations.” McCoy remarked as he crossed his arms. “...There must be hundreds of people in there.”

 

“Five hundred if operating to full capacity.” Spock corrected him.

 

“No response to our hail, Captain.” Uhura reported.

 

“No readings of any hull damage.” Spock reported returning to his scanner.

 

“If they weren’t attacked why aren’t they answering us? Why are they just sitting there?” Jim thought aloud.

 

“Maybe they need a tow.” McCoy suggested.

 

“That doesn’t explain why they won’t communicate with us.” Jim said.

 

“Could they have abandoned the ship?” Chekov asked.

 

“We’ll have to send a party onboard to know for sure.” Jim replied getting out of his seat. “Spock, Bones, let’s say hello.”

 

* * *

 

 

They materialized in the _Ulysses_ transporter room and immediately Jim was slammed with cold. That wasn’t all, the air was thin- dangerously thin. He saw McCoy collapse to the ground and followed shortly after he fell to his knees.

 

“Oxygen-!” Spock gasped hunching over.

 

“Enterprise!” Jim gasped desperately into his communicator. “Beam us back!” he choked out in a strangled rasp.

 

The comforting hum of the transporter beam filled Jim’s ears, or it may have been the dizziness as he felt his conscious mind slipping away. He was face down on the transporter platform when he ‘woke up’. McCoy was laying next to him on his back, his eyes wide with alarm.

 

“Captain, are you alright!?” Scotty proclaimed as he rushed to his side.

 

“Fine, just a little...winded.” Jim said sitting up.

 

“Well that was fun!” McCoy snapped sarcastically after a few heavy breaths. “Let’s beam into a pile of rusty scissors next!”

 

“The ship’s oxygen and life support systems appear to be underperforming.” Spock spoke calmly.

 

“You think!?” McCoy rasped at him with heavy sarcasm.

 

Spock whipped around to face McCoy.

 

“Yes Doctor, I really do believe so.” Spock remarked.

 

McCoy rolled his eyes as Jim steadily got to his feet.

 

“Scotty, we’re going to need oxygen for our next transport.” Jim said. “We’ll need your expertise as well, and we’ll need to move quickly- there might be survivors on board.”

 

“Aye sir.” Scotty said.

 

* * *

 

They were much more prepared the second time they boarded the _Ulysses_ ship. Once they materialized Spock immediately took a sample of the ship’s atmosphere.

 

“Low readings of oxygen suggest fatal levels. No toxicity or harmful foreign substances.” Spock read off his tricorder.

 

“Scan for humanoid lifeforms Mr. Spock.” Jim ordered him.

 

“Scanning…” Spock reported. “Captain,” he said looking up from his tricorder. “Humanoid lifeforms are on the ship, but they’re in a status of complete inactivity.”

 

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Jim asked slowly.

 

Their fears were confirmed as they marched outside the transporter room. Signs of death was everywhere as they walked further inside the ship. It reminded Jim of a mass tomb, only worse, because the corpses had been living people as early as a few days ago. Because of the cold, the lack of oxygen, and vermin on the ship, the bodies were remarkably preserved.

 

“Why didn’t they try to leave when the life support systems failed?” McCoy asked. “Why not put out a distress signal? Call for help? Anything?”

 

“It’s possible they didn’t know they were in trouble until it was too late.” Scotty replied. “The back-up system kicks in automatically and can give you a false sense of security. If both life systems went down, Engineering would only have so much time to repair it. Who knows how often they were maintained? It coulda been a difficult repair.”

 

“You really think they’d be so careless?” Jim asked as he stepped over the bodies.

 

“I’ll run a full diagnostic of course, but It’s a commercial charter, sir.” Scotty replied. “I hate to be labeled a cynic, but the life support systems are the most expensive hardware on these ships. I’ve seen my fair share of jerry-rigging on them when they should have been retired. Safety regulations are only as good as management pressures them to be.”

 

“Understood.” Jim replied. He turned to McCoy. “We’ll need a full medical scan on several of the bodies to determine cause of death.”

 

“Of course.” McCoy said breaking out of his grim trance. He produced a scanner and bent over a collapsed woman who was clutching her chest with one hand. “Cause of death... suffocation.”

 

“I’ve located the one of the central servers.” Spock said keying through a terminal. “Perhaps there are records that can aid us in figuring out what happened here.”

 

McCoy took a few varied scans as Jim stepped through the bodies, steadying himself emotionally as he absorbed their faces into his memory.

 

“All of them are showing signs of suffocation.” McCoy said. He joined Jim at looking down at the body of a girl that couldn’t have been older than ten years-old. “Are you okay, Jim?”

 

“No.” Jim replied.

 

“Me neither.” McCoy admitted. “I don’t know why I asked.”

 

“According to the schematics this direction is the fastest route to the engine room.” Spock said pointing to a door on Scotty’s right.

 

Scotty stepped through the door, but once it opened he stopped abruptly within the doorway.

 

“Captain,” Scotty said, his voice slightly raw. “We should find a different route.”

 

“Why?” Jim asked.

 

As they gathered around an unsettling sight stopped everyone from advancing.

 

They had stumbled upon the ship’s nursery. An easy hundred, maybe more, infants and children of all ages were slumped on the floor, in bassinets, and some clutched into the embrace of their parents.

 

“My God!” McCoy gasped. “How could anyone allow this to happen? It’s senseless!”

 

“Starfleet has to be informed.” Scotty spoke softly. “We can’t let these people die for nothing.”

 

“Agreed. Until then, we’ll go around.” Jim said softly. “Find another route. ...Let the dead rest in peace. Mr. Spock?’

 

“An alternative route is this way, Captain.” Spock spoke steadily.

 

* * *

 

Getting to the engine room proved less a heart-wrenching affair. The bodies thinned out, and only a few crewmembers were littered in the corners. Scotty had been going over the support systems with vigor as they watched on.

 

“Your analysis Mr. Scott?” Jim asked.

 

“Just as I suspected.” Scotty said darkly. “Here’s the culprit, Captain.” He held up a burnt cylinder no bigger than the palm of his hand. “This is what did the system in. It’s a power regulator but it’s much too small for this ship. They over-taxed it and it was only able to work at quarter capacity until it blew out, plain and simple.”

 

“Pack it up.” Jim ordered him. “It’ll become the new symbol of safety regulations for colony charters if I have anything to do with it.”

 

“Aye, sir.” Scotty replied.

 

“Let’s get out of here. I’ve seen enough.” Jim said.

 

* * *

 

 

Doctor McCoy was leaning against the table in his quarters, spinning a glass of whiskey in his hands. He kept thinking about the _Ulysses_ and what sort of crew would allow hundreds of people to slowly suffocate to death. Who would risk those children’s lives for profit? The questions made him finish his third shot.

 

He didn’t think he was nearly as close to being as drunk as he wanted to be. His doorbell chimed as he poured himself another drink.

 

“Yeah?” McCoy called. “Jim, is that you?”

The doors opened and Spock stepped in his room clutching two folders under his arm.

 

“What’s that?” McCoy asked motioning to the folders with his glass.

 

“Mr. Scott and my official analysis and a copy of your autopsy report on the _Ulysses_ mission.” He replied stoically.

 

“Mmm, put them on the table.” McCoy slurred.

 

“Only one is for you, the other is for the Captain.” Spock informed him. “After consulting with Mr. Scott on the probability and performance of the life support systems-”

 

“-Spock, I’m off the clock.” McCoy interrupted him. He held up his glass. “I’m afraid my vice renders me incapable of focusing... on the details.”

 

A single eyebrow popped on Spock’s brow as he surveyed McCoy.

 

“Whatever you have to say about the _Ulysses_ will have to wait until tomorrow morning.” McCoy mumbled.

 

“You’re inebriated.” Spock said.

 

“That’s an astute observation.” McCoy said wryly. “Hey,” he said tipping his glass towards Spock. “You should be a science officer.” He said chuckling at his own joke.

 

“A very illogical suggestion, as we both know I already am one.” Spock said ruining the joke. He crossed the room and placed both the folders on the table.

 

“Ya never turn off that Vulcan charm, do you?” McCoy said. He threw back his head as he downed his shot. Spock watched him closely as he let out a satisfied grunt.

 

“Doctor, if I may interject my personal medical opinion; I don’t think it prudent for you to indulge in your ‘vice’, as you are the head medical officer on our mission. We have not yet officially reported to Starfleet, and they may call on you to disclose the details of your autopsy report.” Spock said. “We are still technically ‘on the clock’.”

 

“The mission is _why_ I’m indulging, you green-blooded, hobgoblin!” McCoy raged. “ _I’m sad_! Surely even _you_ can understand that!”

 

“I do acknowledge-” Spock started.

 

“-Acknowledge?” McCoy repeated. “Don’t you _feel_ anything? My God, so many people died for nothing!”

 

“...Doctor,” Spock said softly. “I take no pleasure in what we witnessed today.”

 

“Is that the best you can do? Dammit Spock,” McCoy cursed, “I know you don’t have emotions, but I’m sure even Vulcans have hearts!”

 

“A correct statement... I’m afraid I don’t understand the origin of your complaint.” Spock replied.

 

“There were children!” McCoy burst out angrily. “They were the most -vulnerable and innocent of our species, the most undeserving of-” he stuttered. He paused, gathering his thoughts and took a shaky breath. “You really don’t feel anything for them? Not even...secretly?”

 

“Please don’t mistake my emotionless state as rooted in villainy.” Spock said. “I want justice for all who have died, and I especially recognize the waste of potential in the children dying.”

 

“The ‘ _waste of potential’_?” McCoy repeated in a fury.

 

“You’ve worked yourself into an emotional state.” Spock told him. “And I believe you are very inebriated.”

 

“Yes, Spock, I am very inebriated- and very emotional! It’s the logical way to be after seeing what we’ve seen!” McCoy snapped.

 

“I cannot agree.” Spock replied.

 

“You can’t? Well you know what’s illogical? Not feeling anything after seeing an entire room full of dead infants.” McCoy spat viciously. “To not even feel a twinge of grief for all those people. _That_ is illogical.”

 

“Grief is a _reasonable_ human response to what we witnessed,” Spock told him. There was an edge of impatience in his voice. “But not a logical one.”

 

McCoy laughed humorlessly before his smile twisted into a pained grimace.

 

“I should know better than to seek comfort with you.” McCoy said shaking his head. “You’re nothing but a pointy-eared, walking computer.”

 

“You seem determined to pick a fight with me, Doctor.” Spock informed him. “A very odd and illogical means to ‘seek comfort’.”

 

“...You’re right.” McCoy sighed.

 

He turned his back to Spock and leaned on the table as he poured himself another shot of whiskey.

 

“Actually, I envy you right now. I wish I could not feel today’s horrors in my mind playing over and over and over....” McCoy admitted. “I keep hoping this will make me feel a little more detached from the mission.” He turned to face Spock, who was watching him with slight interest as he knocked back his shot in one quick swallow. It made him feel self-conscious. “Fancy a drink? So I don’t feel too bad ‘working myself into an emotional state’ alone?”

 

McCoy grabbed another clean glass off the tray and poured a generous shot.

 

“No thank you.” Spock refused as McCoy held it out to him.

 

“Then just hold the damn drink.” McCoy snapped as he shoved it in Spock’s hand. “Hell, just give me the illusion you care about what I’m going through!”

 

“I do care.” Spock replied placing the drink back on the table.

 

“You do?” McCoy huffed skeptically as he swayed.

 

“I am here, Doctor.” Spock stated as if it were obvious. “Despite your insults and your vitriolic attitude toward me, I will remain in your quarters as long as you wish me to, to assist in relieving your sorrow.”

 

That caused McCoy to laugh genuinely. He picked up Spock’s untouched whiskey and held it close to his chest.

 

“Would you be here if you didn’t have to deliver your analysis?” McCoy asked him.

 

“I admit it was an opportunity I took advantage of to check on your mental state.” Spock replied.

 

“You came here under false pretenses?” He asked with an easy smile. “You lied?”

 

“It was not a lie, Doctor.” Spock said stiffly.

 

“But you were concerned for me?” McCoy pressed him further.

 

“Naturally. You were in distress, and as chief medical officer it could prove perilous if you are to continue in your highly negative emotional state.” Spock replied.

 

“You would say anything to avoid admitting having a human emotion, wouldn’t you?” McCoy said with a grin. Spock opened his mouth to reply but McCoy interrupted, “Thank you all the same.”

 

“You’re quite welcome.” He replied.

 

McCoy hadn’t realized how close he was standing to Spock until he was looking him in the face. In a slow waiver his glass pressed against Spock’s chest as he closed in, and before McCoy’s mind could register exactly what he was doing, he shocked himself by pressing his lips against Spock’s.

 

He felt a surge of pleasure at the brief, soft kiss.

 

Then a surge of terror and deep embarrassment. The glass of whiskey slipped out of his hand and made a thump against the hard carpet before spilling all over the floor and on his shoes. He was staring at Spock in amazement, who in turn was expressing a rare emotion of being shocked as well.

 

_There are some reactions even he can’t hide._

 

If McCoy wasn’t so upset by his own actions he’d enjoy watching Spock squirm.

 

“I’m so sorry, I really had too many.” McCoy said with a forced laugh, bending over and picking up the spilled glass.

 

Spock hadn’t moved away from him, but McCoy wished he would. He felt dizzy as he stood back up and awaited some sort of response from the Vulcan. McCoy couldn’t see any revulsion on his face, or any other emotion, though his nostrils were flaring slightly and he seemed to have stopped blinking.

 

“I’m tired...drunk... not feeling like myself.” McCoy said in horror.

 

“Yes.” Spock replied.

 

“You should go.” McCoy said desperately. “I’m going to go to bed...sleep it off. Go check-up on Jim.”

 

“Yes.” Spock said again. He hesitated before turning to leave.

 

“Ah- Spock,” McCoy said, causing Spock to stop. “I have two folders, one’s for Jim, right?”

 

Spock hesitated before quickly grabbing one of the folders from the table.

 

“Oh, and uh,” McCoy said clearing his throat. “Don't tell him about- you know.”

 

“Yes.” Spock said simply before departing.

 

When his door closed McCoy let out a humiliated cry of panic.

 

_What the hell was that, Leonard? Are you out of your damn mind? Spock of all people! You’re not even attracted to men!_

 

He ran a shaky hand over his face and placed the empty glass on his table.

 

“No more drinking.” He said to himself. “Not until this mission’s over.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Hi Spock.” Jim said. He was sitting in a chair in his quarters. “Come on in, I’m just winding down”

 

Spock wordlessly entered and handed Jim a folder.

 

“...You seem quiet.” Jim said. “Something wrong?”

 

“It has been a remarkably unusual day.” Spock admitted.

 

“Unusual and disturbing.” Jim mumbled.

 

“Quite.” Spock agreed.

 

“Would you like to have a drink with me and take some of the edge off?” Jim asked him.

 

“No, I would not.” Spock said quickly. Jim raised his eyebrows at the response. “I’ve just come from Doctor McCoy’s quarters and he made the same offer, which I refused.”

 

“You’re right, I should be asking him to join me.” Jim said standing up and heading towards his liquor cabinet.

 

“I don’t think so.” Spock said. “He was intoxicated and he’s gone to bed.”

 

“...He’s taking it that poorly, huh?” Jim asked as he pulled out a bottle of brandy.

 

“Very much so.” Spock said. “His behavior was...quite erratic.”

 

“What do you mean?” Jim asked him frowning. Spock didn’t reply. “Spock?”

 

“He’s asked me not to elaborate on the incident.” Spock replied.

 

“Incident?” Jim repeated. “What happened?”

 

“Captain, I wish to respect his request.” Spock said apologetically. “Rest assured what happened bares no relevance in the success or failure of our mission.”

 

“Well is he okay?” Jim asked him.

 

“He displayed some embarrassment but hasn’t suffered any injury.” Spock replied.

 

“Alright.” Jim said. Curiosity was eating away at him but he resisted the urge to question Spock further.

 

“Captain?” Spock said.

 

“Hm?” Jim replied.

 

“While intoxicated, do you find that your judgement is so impaired that you’d express emotions you didn’t truly have?” Spock asked. Jim got the impression the question was phrased very carefully.

 

“Oh Spock, I wouldn’t take anything Doctor McCoy said to you to heart.” Jim said. “To answer your question, being drunk can magnify an emotion, and the good doctor does get frustrated with you, but he also holds you in the highest respect.”

 

Spock seemed to be mulling Jim’s response over quietly. After a pause he raised a single eyebrow.

 

“You’re really not going to tell me what happened, huh?” Jim asked.

 

“I wish to spare him further humiliation.” Spock replied.

 

“You know you’re killing me with curiosity.” Jim told him.

 

“It is quite impossible to die of curiosity.” Spock replied simply.

 

“I know, it’s an expression.” Jim said airily. “What I meant was your responses are making me more and more curious about this incident.”

 

“Please understand my intentions are not to cause any hardship towards you or the Doctor.” Spock replied.

 

“I understand.” Jim said. He crossed the room and picked up the folder with a sigh. “I should probably go to bed myself, we’re going to need rest and tomorrow doesn’t look any easier.”

 

“Then I’ll leave you to rest.” Spock stated.

 

“Thanks for stopping by.” Jim said.

 

* * *

 

 

McCoy found himself interrupted from a daydream as Jim placed his breakfast tray on the table. He hadn’t slept well and he couldn’t shake the grogginess that gripped him. Even after taking a hydration shot he found himself still suffering from a wicked hangover.

 

“I heard you hit the sauce pretty hard last night.” Jim said sitting across McCoy.

 

McCoy sniffed as he scratched his cheek. He’d skipped shaving that morning, and no doubt he looked like hell.

 

“Don’t be upset, I’m not judging you, so did I.” Jim mistook his silence for guilt.

 

“I’ve sworn it off.” McCoy drawled, stabbing an egg with his fork. Jim met his gaze questionably. “Don’t shit a brick, I’m only abstaining until this _Ulysses_ thing blows over. Drowning it out is literally not worth the headache.”

 

“Yeah, Spock mentioned the two of you had some sort of incident?” Jim said. A visible change settled over McCoy as he stopped moving his fork and stared intensely at his plate. “Relax, he wouldn’t tell me what happened.”

 

“It was nothing,” McCoy said gruffly. “Just a misunderstanding.”

 

“I’m intrigued.” Jim teased him. “I think you might have hurt our science officer’s feelings.”

 

“He doesn’t have feelings to hurt.” McCoy snapped eating again.

 

“You know that’s not true.” Jim whispered. “He doesn’t have the luxury of showing us the toll yesterday’s mission took on him… so take it easy on the insults for a while.”

 

“Take it easy-? I didn’t insult him!” McCoy said defensively. Jim raised his eyebrows. “Well, I did- but that’s not what caused...” he trailed off. “Why am I talking about this? I don’t want to talk about this.” he snapped moodily at Jim. “Stop talking about it.”

 

“Okay, I’m sorry.” Jim said holding up a passive hand.

 

“...Did you read the report?” McCoy asked, changing the subject.

 

“I skimmed through it.” Jim replied.

 

“Me too. I think Spock’s looking to publish. He wrote an entire volume on life support systems and escape pod schematics.” McCoy scoffed. “I was too wasted to absorb any of it, although the annoyed feeling I got looking at it is still lingering.”

 

“From what I read there were no viruses in the computers. Life support and backup systems stalled into a shutdown from mechanical failure.” Jim said. “just as Scotty predicted.”

 

Jim’s gaze flickered behind McCoy, causing him to twist in his seat.

 

“Gentlemen.” Spock greeted them.

 

McCoy noticed he had travelled to Jim’s side of the table to sit down instead of taking the path of least resistance and sitting next to him.

 

“I overheard you speaking about the _Ulysses_.” Spock said. “Are are you conducting a private meeting?”

 

“No, it’s just called breakfast.” McCoy informed him bitingly.

 

“Thank you Doctor, I am familiar with the concept.” Spock replied stiffly, not meeting his eyes.

 

“We were just making conversation about the accident.” Jim replied.

 

“Captain, at the risk of sounding impertinent, did you read my report?” Spock asked him carefully.

 

“We skimmed it.” McCoy replied. “We had to. If we read every word we wouldn’t even be here for breakfast because we’d _still_ be reading it.”

 

“Not so.” Spock said with a subtle note of annoyance at the criticism. “The entire report if read at an average pace of two hundred words per minute would only take you four hours and twelve minutes and thirty-six seconds.”

 

“Four hours?” McCoy repeated incredulously. “Gee, is that all?” he added sarcastically.

 

“Four hours, twelve minutes _and_ thirty-six seconds.” Spock repeated. “Of course it’s entirely plausible it would have taken you much longer to process the information, Doctor. You were severely impaired last night.”

 

“Alright you two, calm down, let’s not have another incident.” Jim said in warning.

 

McCoy cleared his throat and began stabbing at his eggs again as Spock kept his face carefully neutral.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t read your entire report.” Jim said to Spock in between bites of his own breakfast. “I’ll be sure to pass it along to Starfleet. In the meantime you’re going to have to forgive me and give me the short version.”

 

“Very well. The short version is, I don’t believe what happened aboard the _Ulysses_ was an accident.” Spock claimed.

 

Jim stopped chewing his pancake and dropped his fork. “Explain.” Jim said.

 

“The failure of the life support systems was very logical, even inevitable.” Spock informed them. “However, when I turned my attention to the escape pods I discovered a very curious inconsistency; four pods were deployed and yet everyone aboard the vessel is accounted for.”

 

“Is it possible the crew bungled the evacuation?” McCoy asked. “After all, these weren’t soldiers, they were civilians.”

 

“I pulled records off the central computer.” Spock said. “The data appeared to be corrupt, but I was able to read one string. None of the escape pods were empty. Oxygen was regulated and a heart rate recorded in all pods. As tempted as I am to label the _Ulysses_ a victim of a string of human and mechanical errors, I find it more likely saboteurs were involved.” Spock said. “Saboteurs that were not listed on the colonist’s ledger...who escaped the fate of those aboard.”

 

“This was an organized massacre made to look like an accident.” Jim whispered.

 

“The theory would support the facts.” Spock replied.

 

“I have to report this to Starfleet right away.” Jim said leaving his tray half-eaten pancakes on the table.

 

Jim’s leaving caused McCoy to feel the full weight of being alone with Spock. There was an awkward stillness that couldn’t be ignored, and McCoy was sure Spock felt it as well despite his practiced mask of no emotion.

 

“I’ve got to...get to sick bay.” McCoy said. He didn’t have the fortitude to come up with a reasonable excuse.

 

He left his tray of food on the table as he quickly rushed out of the cafeteria.

* * *

 

 

His retreat was short lived, however. McCoy lingered outside the cafeteria fighting the butterflies in his stomach as he waited for Spock to immerge. Any time a crewmember wearing the blue science uniform appeared he felt his heart jump into his throat. Several times he had been tempted to pretend nothing had changed between him and Spock, but he knew the awkward tension would mount unless he did something to diffuse.

 

 _“Oh come on! How many science officers could there be eating there?_ ” he thought as another blue-uniformed man walked out. His nerves were fatiguing him, though he felt even weaker when Spock finally stepped out.

 

Spock was looking through his thick report as he strolled down the hallway towards the elevator to the bridge. He didn’t seem to pay any mind to anyone as the doctor trailed behind him nervously. Once Spock stepped inside the elevator McCoy recognized it as his chance to get him alone.

 

Gathering up his courage McCoy quickened his pace and covered the distance to the lift in a fast walk.

 

“Hold the door!” McCoy demanded. He slipped into the lift with Spock.

 

“This elevator is going to the bridge, not sick bay.” Spock announced.

 

“I know where it goes, Spock, I wasn’t asleep every single time I’ve used it.” McCoy snapped. His expression softened. “I, uh, was hoping to avoid doing this, but I see that we need to talk.”

 

Yeoman Rand was making her way to the lift and McCoy loudly announced “close door”. The elevator system obeyed, causing the doors to close right in her face.

 

“Hey-!” They heard her shout as it cut off.

 

“Stop lift.” Doctor McCoy ordered so the elevator wouldn’t go to the bridge.

 

Spock raised his eyebrows at McCoy’s actions.

 

“You have my attention, Doctor.” Spock said.

 

“This isn’t easy for me to say, so here it goes.” McCoy said looking down at his feet. “I want to apologize for last night.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t really know where the…” he paused, discomfort overtaking him. “...kiss came from. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

 

“Your apology is unnecessary.” Spock replied.

 

“What do you mean, ‘unnecessary’?” McCoy asked frowning at him slightly.

 

“You were drunk, traumatized, and in a state of intense agitation.” Spock clarified. “You were not in your right mind, so to speak.”

 

“Yeah...I suppose so.” McCoy said slowly. “I just want you to know that I’m just as confused as you why I did that.”

 

“On the contrary, I understand your behavior completely.” Spock told him.

 

“You do?” McCoy said.

 

“Yes. I recognize now you were merely acting on your base human instincts. A common, primitive coping mechanism of your species is to seek comfort in a crisis wherever it can be found.” Spock explained.

 

“Oh, uh-” McCoy started.

 

“-Combined with your impaired judgement and the professed ‘horrors of the day’, you were overwhelmed and you lacked the self-discipline to suppress the urge to kiss me.” Spock said. “It’s all very logical.”

 

“Now wait just a damn minute,” McCoy snarled. “you make it sound like I was some mindless beast pouncing on you!”

 

“Not mindless,” Spock replied matter-of-factly. “merely over-stressed and intoxicated.”

 

“Why you-” McCoy snarled. “You know I was wrestling all night with the thought I might have feelings for you! I can’t believe I tormented myself wondering how to handle this mess between us. I can see now I shouldn’t have bothered! Open door!”

 

Once the doors opened McCoy shoved past the confused yeoman waiting for the lift.

 

“Very rude!” Yeoman Rand cried indignantly.

 

“Excuse me,” McCoy yelled sarcastically behind his shoulder. “I can’t control myself!”

 


	2. The 'Vulcan'

“Doctor, Captain Kirk requested your presence on the bridge.” Nurse Chapel said.

McCoy didn’t feel prepared to face officious duties, not after his blow-up with Spock, but he gave no argument. When he arrived on the bridge Jim had already contacted Starfleet and was communicating with Commander Truitt. McCoy took his usual station next to the Captain’s chair- Spock was avoiding his gaze and was giving his complete attention to the Commander.

“We appreciate your report, Captain. It was very thorough, but admittedly we haven’t had time to- ah- look over the finer points in it.” Truitt said looking a little sheepish.

McCoy and Jim shared a knowing glance. Spock finally broke contact with the screen to look over at the pair of them.

“Who does?” McCoy mumbled softly to Jim with a smirk.

Jim’s mouth went thinner to hide a smile; their gaze flicked over to Spock who was drawing a long, annoyed breath in.

“Don’t make me laugh during this report, not now.” Jim whispered to McCoy out of the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you for all your help.” Truitt continued. “We’ll send our scouts to collect the bodies and give them the proper burial they deserve.”

“Commander, we believe that the  _ Ulysses _ was attacked.” Jim said. “We think the deaths of the civilians on that ship was intentional. Murder.”

“...I see.” Truitt said in a heavy tone.

“Before we’re dismissed from this assignment we’d like permission to pursue of the saboteurs wherever our investigation takes us and bring them to justice.” Jim said.

Truitt pursed his lips together in thought.

“Well then...Captain Kirk,” Truitt said with a sigh. “I’m going to need to speak to you and your senior officers on a private channel.”

“Of course.” Jim replied. He noted the subtle look of concern in Spock’s deceptively stony face. “Uhura, connect Commander Truitt to conference room 3A.” he said standing up.

“Connecting.” Uhura replied.

Jim got up from his chair and motioned Spock over to join him. He approached the Captain’s chair with caution, as if it were a wild animal out to bite him. It wasn’t until Spock maintained a healthy distance that it dawned on McCoy Spock was keeping his distance because of  _ him.  _

“Captain?” Spock said, folding his hands behind his back.

“I think we stumbled on something a little bigger than ourselves.” Jim said in a hushed voice.

“That was my impression as well.” Spock replied.

“I want you with me.” Jim said. He turned to McCoy. “You too, Doctor.”

Spock was unreadable. McCoy knew he should have been focusing on the terrible series of events at hand, but he couldn’t help but obsess over Spock’s anti-social reactions. The blatant rejection embarrassed him worse than the kiss.

The three of them travelled to the conference room in silence, and they emerged in the conference room with Truitt’s image already plastered on the screen, waiting for them to arrive as they sat down at the conference table.

“I’m afraid we haven’t given you all the facts.” Truitt admitted as they sat down. “What I’m about to share with you requires a top security clearance.”

“I trust my men.” Jim reassured the Commander.

“Very well. We were hiding a very valuable spy on the  _ Ulysses _ .” Truitt admitted. “She was afraid her true identity had been discovered and she wanted to disappear. So Starfleet gave her a new name, a new face, a new history...she was on her way to a new life. We even went as far to falsify records so she’d be officially recognized as a different species. It seems her attackers are more organized and capable than we realized.”

“What do you mean a new species? You performed cosmetic surgery on her?” McCoy asked.

“Not as such, she was a Romulan.” Truitt explained. “When she wasn’t living behind enemy lines she had a habit of posing as a Vulcan for...well, the obvious.”

“A Romulan?” Jim proclaimed. “A trustworthy Romulan working for the Federation? Are you sure she didn’t betray you and those people?” 

“I leave those judgements to your investigation. But know this, she’d collected extremely potent intelligence against the Romulans for the Federation, and she was an active spy for two years.” Truitt said. “Losing her is a huge blow.”

There was a heavy silence that settled on the room. 

“If you want to pursue her executioners Starfleet will allow it.” Truitt said. “I’ll send you a report of her alias and her likeness so you can confirm her death. Any information you uncover must remain confidential, your crew will operate on a need-to-know basis.”

“Understood Commander.” Jim replied. 

“Best of luck to you, Captain.” Truitt said. “Commander Truitt, out.”

* * *

 

 

Finding their Romulan comrade wasn’t easy on the  _ Ulysses _ . She was registered as a Vulcan named T’Pri, and it was easy enough to locate her room but she wasn’t in it, so they spent hours trying to anticipate where she may have travelled aboard the ship.

“This is taking forever.” McCoy said as she rolled over the body of a woman. He pulled back her hair and saw a pair of round ears. “Damn.” he cursed.

“Not forever.” Spock said inspecting more bodies. “At our present rate it will take us five point three days to visit every room on the ship, according to the schematics.”

“We don’t have five days.” Jim said in frustration. “Every second we waste trying to find the body, the trail is getting colder.”

“Can’t we beam some ensigns aboard to vet through some of these?” McCoy asked Jim.

“Our orders are for the crew to act on a need-to-know basis.” Spock reminded him. 

“I didn’t say they needed to know why we’re looking for a pair of pointed-ears on every woman on the ship.” McCoy shot back.

“Captain, I’ve got somethin’!” Scotty announced.

“Finally.” McCoy sighed. He dropped the woman in his arms who slapped the floor with a loud thud. Spock raised an eyebrow. “Don’t start.”

Scotty led the group into one of the private quarters down a twisted hallway. Inside the room was the alleged T’Pri, a  middle-aged ‘Vulcan’ in a long, flowing dress who was face-up on the floor. There were signs of a terrible struggle, most of the furniture was broken but there was little signs of blood.

“Yes,” Jim said checking her visage against a photo. “That looks like her. Good job, Scotty.”

“These are not her quarters.” Spock proclaimed pulling up the manifest. “They belong to a young, Earth-man.” he said checking a ledger. “A Mr. Ryder Boswell.”

“So why is she here instead of her room?” Jim asked.

“Obviously she wasn’t antisocial.” McCoy said. “After all, she was only  _ pretending _ to be a Vulcan.”

“Or perhaps her presence here was not born of tedious, social intentions, but of duty.” Spock replied coldly.

Scotty frowned and leaned over to Jim’s ear.

“Is there something wrong with them, Captain?” Scotty whispered.

“You mean more than usual?” Jim said warily.

“I have another theory-” McCoy started.

“-I don't want theories, I want facts.” Jim interrupted. “Mr. Scott, check the security records to see if there’s any footage of T’Pri entering this room, or anyone else for that matter.”

“Aye sir.” Scotty said before slipping out of the room.

“This is a crime scene now.” Jim announced. “What can you tell me?”

McCoy bent over the body and scanned it. Spock kneeled opposite of McCoy and began his observations as well.

“Cause of death is suffocation, but look here,” McCoy said carefully rolling her head to the side for Jim to see. “these marks on her neck. She was strangled.”

“Defensive wounds, Captain.” Spock reported, holding up her hands. “Her nails were broken and green blood was flecked across her fingers. Our attacker must be considerably strong to get in hand-to-hand combat with a Romulan and win.”

“Noted. See if there’s any DNA under her fingernails other than hers.” Jim said.

“Scanning…” Spock said. “After isolating her DNA, I am able to get a biological signature of one attacker.”

“A biological signature isn’t a lot to go on.” McCoy said.

“It puts our assassin here at the murder scene.” Jim said. “We now have proof she was murdered and can get an easy conviction with this evidence.”

McCoy leaned even further forward to examine any other injuries she may have had. Once he got closer to the body, Spock pulled his head back in a quick motion.

“Calm down, Spock, I’m not going to touch you.” McCoy said his annoyance mounting.

“That is a relief.” Spock said. McCoy’s jaw tightened visually.

McCoy repositioned himself, and simultaneously Spock got up to take the opposite side.

“Do you intend to prance around me all day like some devil with a pitchfork, or does your hopping from one place to the other have a point?” McCoy asked said straightening.

“Vulcan’s do not prance.” Spock replied with a hardened edge. “What you’re witnessing is me observing the body from all angles. I am a scientific officer, observation is what comes naturally to me, just as illogical, emotional outbursts comes naturally to you.”

“That’s it,” Jim said sternly. “I’ve run out of patience for this. Starfleet’s entrusted us with an important, secret mission and I can’t concentrate with the two of you constantly bickering in my ear.” Jim said in an exasperated tone. “Mr. Spock.”

“Yes, Captain?” Spock replied getting to his feet.

“I order you to disclose what this incident was that’s caused such a tremendous rift between Dr. McCoy and yourself.” Jim said.

The tone in the room changed immediately. Spock was distracted by McCoy waving his hand across his neck vigorously mouthing ‘no’.

“Captain…” Spock started, his eyes still on the panicked McCoy.

“ _ Now _ , Mr. Spock.” Jim said sternly. “Or I’ll have you court marshaled.”

“...Dr. McCoy was-” Spock faltered.

“-Over-stressed.” McCoy chimed in.

“Yes, I was going to say that.” Spock said shooting McCoy a look of disapproval. “He was over-stressed by horrific scene on the  _ Ulysses _ , and then-”

“-I was also very intoxicated.” McCoy interrupted.

“Excuse me Doctor, but I believe the Captain requested  _ my _ report unless you have somehow assumed my identity I advise you to-” Spock said with an annoyed edge.

“I have some advice for you too-” McCoy snapped.

“Gentleman-” Jim moaned.

“-Your advice is not needed nor requested-” Spock continued.

“-You can write an entire book on life systems, but you can’t give him an adequate idea what my state of mind-” McCoy was snarling.

“-Perhaps if I wasn’t constantly interrupted -”

“Enough!” Jim shouted above them in a long-suffering tone. He threw his hands up.“Just tell me what happened!”

“Yes sir.” Spock said thickly. “Doctor McCoy kissed me, sir.”

“You two...have been at each other’s throats...over a kiss?” Jim said slowly.

Spock pressed his lips together tightly and McCoy shuffled uncomfortably on his feet.

“Mr. Spock, did it cause you any pain? Damage you in some way?” Jim asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Spock replied.

“I’m asking you if the kiss was unpleasant.” Jim said.

“No sir.” Spock replied.

“What about you, Doctor?” Jim asked.

“Jim I-”

“Answer the question.” Jim urged.

“No sir.” McCoy replied.

“Then what  _ are _ you two fighting about?” Jim asked them in an incredulous tone.

They shared an uneasy glance.

“Mr. Spock, I believe Mr. Scott could use your help.” Jim said calmly.

“Indeed Captain.” Spock said dutifully. He nodded at McCoy politely before slipping away.

“Thanks Jim,” McCoy said letting out a deep breath. “I thought for sure you would be-”

“-You kissed him!?” Jim interrupted, rounding on him with a devilish grin.

“Keep your voice down, would you!?” McCoy hissed. He quickly checked the hallways for Scotty, who was combing over the computer systems with Spock outside hearing range.

“Where did you kiss him? On the cheek? What did he do?” Jim fired off the questions without pause.

“I don’t know, I barely remember it!” McCoy lied.

“Oh come on, Bones. You can’t hold out on me, not about this!” Jim said.

McCoy grabbed Jim’s arm and dragged him further into the room after making sure neither Spock nor Scotty was eavesdropping outside the door.

“...I kissed him on the lips.” McCoy said quietly. Jim laughed heartily. “It’s not funny.”

“Of course not.” Jim said dismissively in an amused tone. “What did he do?”

“Nothing, but the way he looked at me made me wish he’d use that damn Vulcan neck pinch to take me out of my misery.” McCoy snapped. “The imp has been lording it over me too, playing it up like I was some damsel in distress throwing myself in his arms...you see how he’s been acting around me.”

Jim burst out with a fresh wave of laughter. 

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” McCoy scowled.

“Well,” Jim said winding down. “you heard what he said, it wasn’t unpleasant for him. He could have been much harder on you.”

“You’re not actually suggesting that he liked the kiss?” McCoy huffed.

“I’m just saying that he didn’t sound like he disliked it.” Jim shrugged. “And who knows, maybe that passes as flirting on Vulcan.”

“I think you’re enjoying this a little too much!” McCoy said.

“I’m sorry, you’re right.” Jim apologized. “But I really want to know, what made you do it?”

“An over-priced 2539 single malt whiskey made me do it,” McCoy snapped. “What else?”

“So logic-talk and pointed ears doesn’t make the heart flutter, hm?” Jim teased him.

“God no!” McCoy said. His face felt hot. “Do you hear yourself? This is Spock we’re talking about!”

“Alright, alright…” Jim said shushing him. “I just thought ...maybe the lady doth protest too much.”

“I’m no lady!” McCoy replied. “You’ve had your laughs, now drop it!”

“Captain?” Scotty said entering the room. He was followed closely by Spock.

“What have you found?” Jim asked.

“No footage of the murder, but I’ve been analyzing the recorded heartbeats in the escape pods.” Spock announced. “They are remarkably similar to a Vulcan’s.”

A look of realization dawned on Jim. “Similar but not exact?”

“They were Romulans.” McCoy said coming to the same conclusion. “Our big break, Jim, how many Romulans are on this side of the galaxy?”

“It certainly narrows things down a bit doesn’t it?” Jim said. “And it makes sense, the Romulans found out she’s a spy for the Federation and kill her for it.”

“Captain, if our ally was a Romulan passing herself off as a Vulcan in our territory, it would be logical to assume the assassins are doing the same.” Spock said.

“Logical as always Mr. Spock.” Jim said. “Now we have a good idea about the ‘how’ and the ‘why’, that just leaves the ‘who’ and ‘where’.” 

* * *

 

 

Jim hadn’t slept well since the mission started. He had the habit of obsessing over the details of a crisis until it was solved, and the Ulysses mission was engaging his mind. He settled himself in his chair in his private quarters and busied himself by reading Spock’s report. To say it was dry was putting it mildly, after ten minutes Jim found himself stuck on the same sentence over and over.

“Captain,” he heard Spock’s voice say. A hand gently shook his shoulder. “Jim?”

Jim snapped his head up, suddenly awake. Spock was standing over him, and when he awoke the Vulcan removed his hand from his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I must have dozed off.” Jim admitted. Spock’s eyes flickered to the report and Jim quickly put it on his bedside table. “Status?”

“Mr. Scott is attempting to locate the escape pods.” Spock announced. He hesitated. “I was hoping you’d be open to discuss something else.”

“Would this ‘something else’ be Dr. McCoy?” Jim asked rubbing his eyes.

“You’re very perceptive.” Spock replied.

“Chalk it up to a lucky guess,” Jim replied dryly. “What’s troubling you, Spock?”

“Dr. McCoy’s behavior has been more illogical than usual of late.” Spock announced.

“Yes...I have noticed his temper’s been on a shorter fuse around you.” Jim agreed.

“Even when I kept his embarrassing affair private, he chose to treat me with disdain.” Spock said.

“Well, he made himself emotionally vulnerable towards you and you didn’t return his affections.” Jim replied. “Your rejection was a major blow to his ego.”

“But he has no basis for his ego to be hurt, his affections were false.” Spock argued. “The alcohol impaired his judgement and magnified feelings for me he would not have otherwise acted on.” 

“Sometimes alcohol works like a stimulant.” Jim replied carefully. “It can make a man more brave than he is...and that’s why he acts on feelings he’s too timid to act on if sober.”

“I see…” Spock reflected. “I hadn’t realized Dr. McCoy was so deeply afflicted by my actions. Perhaps I could show him his contempt is unwarranted.” Spock added as he crossed his arms.

“That’s awfully thoughtful of you.” Jim said, studying Spock closely.

“After all, we’re working closely together on the Ulysses assignment and cohesion is vital to our success.” Spock said. “Today was a misstep, and we can’t afford to break your concentration.” 

“That is true.” Jim replied, thinking back to how Spock had awakened him.

“It’s in our best interests I assuage Dr. McCoy’s ego.” Spock concluded.

“Consider me convinced, Mr. Spock.” Jim replied, feeling tired.

“Then it’s settled, I will return his affections,” Spock announced stoically. “for the good of the mission.” he assured Jim.

“...Just for the good of the mission?” Jim questioned him.

Before Spock could answer, the door to Jim’s quarters chimed. Scotty hadn’t waited for an answer or an invitation before stepping inside.

“Pardon the intrusion, Captain.” Scotty apologized. He had been looking for Spock and was beaming with triumph. “You were right, the pod’s tracking device signals were intentionally scrambled. I took your suggestion of combining all four together and I was able to get a full reading to pinpoint their location.”

“Where did they flee?” Jim asked Scotty eagerly.

“To a planet in Kornephoros called Alcor VII.” Scotty announced.

“Alcor VII?” Jim said to himself. “That’s the same planet McCoy was telling us about, the one he suggested for shore leave.”

“This bodes well for us, Captain.” Spock said. “We can keep our mission secret under the guise of attending shore leave.”

“Yes, that does seem like the most intelligent approach.” Jim said. He got up from his chair and strolled toward the intercom on his wall, and pushed the button for the bridge.

“Kirk to bridge.” Jim announced. “Mr. Sulu?”

“Aye, Sir?” Sulu’s voice rang.

“Set course for Alcor VII.” Jim commanded.

“Acknowledged. Setting course.”

“If you need me, I’ll be in sickbay.” Spock said to Jim with a nod.

“Spock, wait. About McCoy...” Jim said. Spock stopped just outside the door. “Nevermind.” Jim said rubbing his eyes.

* * *

 

 

McCoy didn’t know what Jim expected him to discover from the biosample they collected except that the assassin was, in fact, a Romulan. Most of what he discovered didn’t have much practical use for their mission, but it was interesting to note the similarities and differences between human, Vulcan, and Romulan physiology.

He was sitting at his desk comparing hemoglobins in the computer when Spock entered.

“Doctor.” Spock greeted, interrupting McCoy’s train of thought.

“Spock.” McCoy replied stiffly. “Your next physical isn’t due for months, and judging from that pallid, greenish hue to your skin, you’re in acceptable health. So why are you here?”

“I wish to relay a message.” Spock said ignoring the insult.

“That’s what the intercom is for.” McCoy replied.

“It cannot be delivered over the intercom.” Spock insisted.

“I thought Scotty set up a private channel for us so no one can overhear our conversations?” McCoy said pointedly.

“You misunderstand, it is not because of security reasons.” Spock said. “Also, it’s regarding a personal matter.”

“All personal matters will have to wait.” McCoy said blowing him off. “I’m working.” He returned to looking through his scope at the biological sample of the Romulan attacker.

“It will only take a minute.” Spock assured him from behind.

McCoy ignored him as he put another slide under his scope. When Spock’s fingers wrapped around his shoulders McCoy jumped in his seat and cried out in alarm. He spun quickly in his chair to face Spock.

“Watch your hands! What in blazes are you trying to do? Knock me out?” McCoy snapped at him.

Spock slinked away from McCoy and folded his hands behind his back.

“I was not attempting the Vulcan nerve-pinch,” Spock explained apologetically. “I was trying to diffuse the tension in your shoulders.”

“What the hell for?” McCoy snapped at him.

“To put you at ease.” Spock replied. “I apologize, it seems to have had the opposite effect.”

“I should say so- why are you trying to put me at ease?” McCoy said to him.

“I wanted you to be comfortable when relaying my message.” Spock replied.

“Must be horrid if you insist on pestering me in new and unusual ways.” McCoy mumbled. “Alright,” he said slapping his hands on his knees as he stood up. “What is it?”

Spock grabbed McCoy’s right hand firmly and brushed two fingers slowly down McCoy’s index and middle finger.

“Enough with the massages, just tell me what- wait,” McCoy said with a pause. He felt a delightful, dizzying warmth grip his insides. His eyes widened. “Are you...  _ Vulcan _ -kissing me?”

“I am.” Spock replied softly. “Do you not feel it, Doctor?”

“Doctor McCoy,” came a woman’s voice from the room. It was Nurse Chapel and she was carrying a box with her. “I have more of Mr. Spock’s biological records you requested- oh.” Nurse Chapel said looking at the both of them. “He’s here.”

McCoy wrenched his hand out of Spock’s grip quickly and wiped it nervously against his shirt. 

“Put them on the table.” McCoy said hastily, nodding to workstation. She obeyed, though it was clear to see Spock’s visit was piquing her interest. It put McCoy into an even tenser mood.

“I don’t want to keep you from your duties, so I’ll leave you to work.” Spock said. There was note of triumph in his voice. “Thank you for seeing me, Doctor.”

“Come back any time.” Nurse Chapel said to him politely as Spock left.

“No, only come back during work hours and if you’re sick!” McCoy yelled after him.

Nurse Chapel shot McCoy a look of disapproval.  

“I’m a doctor, not a dancing monkey! If crewmembers want to pass the time there are recreation halls to do it in.” McCoy said.

“Whatever you say... Doctor.” Nurse Chapel replied, turning and leaving the room.

When she left McCoy punched the button on his com.

“Jim, are you there?” He asked accessing the private channel.

“I’m here. What did you find out from the bio-sample?” Jim asked.

“Forget the sample. I’ve got bigger problems.” McCoy said.

“Why doesn’t anyone want to talk about the mission?” Jim sighed.

“Because I’m dealing with more immediate concerns- like how I’ve got a horny Vulcan nipping at my heels.” McCoy snapped. 

“Oh no, is he pon farring?” Jim asked with a note of concern.

“No, he just dropped by to play his weird, alien-love version of pat-a-cake!” McCoy said.

“You don’t say?” Jim replied, his voice an octave higher.

“...You don’t sound surprised at all.” McCoy said. “Do you know anything about this!?” McCoy grilled him.

“Me?” Jim replied. Even over the comm McCoy could sense his guilt.

“You do!” McCoy accused him.

“Bones, this channel is supposed to be used for mission-purposes only-” Jim continued.

“Don’t you get officious on me!” McCoy said. “You demanded to be a part of this, remember?”

“I demanded the two of you reconcile to protect my sanity, which is proving a fool’s errand.” Jim replied. “Now if you excuse me, I have another mission that requires my attention.”

“Don’t you dare cut transmission.” McCoy hissed. “I need your help, I don’t know how to deal with him. Every time I think I’ve got a handle on this fiasco he changes the rules- I’m getting whiplash! Help me, Jim!”

“I’m your friend and your captain, but there’s some things you need to figure out for yourself. And right now I don’t have the time to play referee for your feelings towards each other.” Jim told him. “Now get on that sample. I want to know everything about that Romulan, right down the to angle of his pointed ears. That’s an order.”

“Yes sir.” McCoy said dryly.

“...Stop over later tonight, we’ll talk about it, okay?” Jim said, his tone softening. “Kirk out.”

McCoy didn’t know what annoyed him more, being caught off-guard by Spock’s sudden change-of-heart, or the underlying suspicion he’d enjoyed it.

* * *

 


	3. Alcor VII

_“A friend in need is a friend indeed.”_ Jim thought.

 

And Bones was looking very needy when he entered Jim’s quarters. This romantic fling with Spock must have been throwing him for a loop, because he seemed frazzled even around Jim as he paced wildly around the room expending nervous energy.

 

“Did you want to sit down, Bones?” Jim asked him.

 

“I think I need a drink.” McCoy replied. He removed his hands from behind his back and twiddled his fingers together awkwardly. Then he paused, looked at his fingers, and shoved them stiffly to his sides.

 

“A drink? I thought you had sworn it off?” Jim said.

 

McCoy cast him a long suffering gaze, he hadn’t voiced his plea for pity but Jim knew not to press the issue.

 

“But circumstances being what they are…” Jim trailed off. “Come on, take a load off.” Jim said motioning to a chair.

 

McCoy finally acquiesced and collapsed in the seat. Jim watched as he swung his leg over the arm and stared at the ceiling. Instead of launching into an explanation the Doctor remained silent and pensive; Jim decided against breaking the silence and instead busied himself by pouring two large glasses of gin. It wasn’t until Jim handed the drink to McCoy that the Doctor was stirred out of his thoughts.

 

“Drink up, doctor’s orders.” Jim said with a smirk. McCoy let out a sigh. “That must have been some game of pat-a-cake.”

 

“This whole thing with me and Spock has got my brain scrambled.” McCoy admitted. “I thought it’d go away like a bad case of space-flu, but it’s hanging around like….well...a bad case of space-flu.”

 

“Sounds like Spock caught it from you.” Jim replied. He pulled up his own chair and sat across from McCoy.

 

“That’s what I don’t get,” McCoy said. He sat up straighter and narrowed his brow. “The green-blooded bastard was practically shouting, ‘olé!’ while dodging me- then in the same afternoon he’s trying his Vulcan hands at romance. It’s not like Spock to be so...illogical.”

 

Jim didn’t reply, only sipped his drink as McCoy’s shrewd, calculating gaze challenged him wordlessly.

 

“Perhaps he’s stubborn, like you.” Jim said after the pause went on too long.

 

“Perhaps.” McCoy repeated. Jim could tell he wasn’t convinced.

 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m surprised you’re not giddy Spock’s flirting with you.” Jim said. McCoy bristled but Jim cut him off with a look, “Bones, it’s me. I can tell when someone’s smitten... if you want my help don’t deny it.”

 

“...Are you going to make fun of me over it?” McCoy asked avoiding his eyes.

 

“What are you, nuts? Of course I will.” Jim laughed.

 

“Alright...the truth is I don’t like being toyed with.” McCoy mumbled. He took a sip of his drink and pulled a face. “Ugh- this reminds me of the stuff grandpa _didn’t_ lock up. What is this? Embalming fluid?”

 

“Gin.” Jim replied. “Got it as a gift.”

 

“I hope your advice is better than your booze.” McCoy said.

 

“You really want my advice?” Jim asked. McCoy nodded. “Stop worrying. If you like Spock hitting on you then lay back and enjoy it. If it doesn’t work out then don’t make it a big deal. The both of you fight like a pair of Riverian fight-dogs anyway, so what’s the worst that can happen?”

 

“James Kirk telling me to throw caution into the wind and go for it, I’d have never thunk it.” McCoy said shaking his head with a smile.

 

“Life’s too short not to indulge in simple pleasures.” Jim replied.

 

“Maybe, but you can’t blame me for being cautious.” McCoy said. “I don’t trust anyone that goes from cold-to-hot that quick. I’ve seen you use that trick too many times to fall for it.” He said pointedly at Jim.

 

“Well then I’ll cross you off my list.” Jim laughed. He raised his glass. “To hedonism and pointed-ears.”

 

“To handsy Vulcans and bad habits.” McCoy replied, raising his own.

 

* * *

 

 

Jim watched as they got closer and closer to Alcor VII. He was swiveling in his chair and resting his chin on his hand thoughtfully when Spock stood close to him and folded his hands behind his back.

 

“Status?” Jim asked Spock in a hushed voice.

 

“Mr. Scott will beam us to Alcor VII in the most populated region.” Spock reported quietly. “It appears there is some sort of annual food festival taking place that has drawn a select, elite society of mixed races to participate in. It’s a perfect opportunity for our assassins to hide; a Vulcan’s presence among them would not be conspicuous.”

 

“Hm, well searching the festival for them is a start.” Jim said to himself. “Have Scotty contact the landing bay and see if they have any records of a landing party of four or more Vulcans.”

 

Spock nodded. Jim noticed his first officer lingered, he hadn’t excused himself nor made any further comments, but continued to stand next to him.

 

“Anything else to report?” Jim asked softly.

 

“I was hoping to consult with you on Doctor McCoy.” Spock said quietly.

 

“Ah.” Jim replied.

 

They both looked over at the Doctor; he was holding an animated conversation with Scotty and oblivious to their attentions.

 

“I’m sensing a conflict.” Spock observed. “It’s making it difficult for me to understand how to pursue him. His posture suggests openness towards me, and he is very attentive and engaging. Furthermore, he does not give any signal he wants me to leave him alone- yet he verbally rebuffs my advances.”

 

“Well he needs to protect his dignity, Spock.” Jim explained. “He can’t just go leaping into your arms at first finger-brush, he needs the thrill of the chase and all that.”

 

“Ah Yes,” Spock said mulling Jim’s words studiously. “I’m familiar with the human desire to engage in a flirtatious battle of wits; it is a very common theme in your literature. Sharing literature is often seen as romantic, and I did take initiative to gift some choice sonnets for the Doctor to enjoy.”

 

“Did you?” Jim said with a smile. “Wow Spock, I’m impressed.”

 

“Yes. He gave me this.” Spock replied.

 

Spock slipped something into Jim’s hand. It was a prescription, and once Jim read it he couldn’t hold back a bark of laughter.

 

“A cold shower.” Jim read, handing it back to Spock.

 

“He did not conduct a physical examination so I assume it is not a serious suggestion to correct a malady, but instead his witty response.” Spock replied. “You seem to understand its implications. Is it a positive response?”

 

“He’s teasing you, Spock.” Jim told him. Spock tilted his head slightly. “It’s a good response.” Jim said, taking mercy on his naiveté.

 

“Human behavior is so very perplexing.” Spock criticized as his gaze followed McCoy.

 

“He’s playing hard-to-get, just keep it at.” Jim encouraged him.

 

Scotty had finally broken away from the conversation and casually strolled to the Captain's chair.

 

“Report?” Jim asked him softly.

 

“Transporter is all ready to beam you to the planet as soon as we arrive.” Scotty said quietly. “Mr. Spock ran a probability matrix to pinpoint the most likely location of the Romulan villains. You’re beaming down to a city called Gal-Tal. It’s close to where the pods landed.”

 

“Excellent work.” Jim complimented him. “I need you to take the helm while I’m gone and be my eyes and ears up here.”

 

“Aye sir.” Scotty said. “I won’t let you down.”

 

* * *

 

 

When they beamed to the planet, they found themselves in a alley-walkway perpendicular to a very crowded street. It was evening and colored, flashing lights lit the main walkway as people bustled past.

 

McCoy remembered it being a crowded city the few times he had visited, but the numbers had increased ten-fold as groups of different races flooded the street. The crowd threatened to carry them away as they walked side-by-side together.

 

“How the hell are we going to find four Vulcans in this?” McCoy asked.

 

“I’m not sure yet.” Jim replied.

 

“HEY! Federation!” A gruff voice boomed at them.

 

The three of them stopped in front of a food cart and saw an alien creature in a long apron waving at them.

 

“Yes- you, Federation!” He said in his strange English. Jim came closer to his cart and McCoy and Spock followed cautiously. “You’re critics at festival, yes?”

 

“Are we?” McCoy said.

 

“For the voting, you vote?” The alien asked. “Here- take this.”

 

Since McCoy was the only one to speak up he was chosen to have a long stick shoved in his hand with a large blue hunk on the end of it. He stared at it in shock.

 

“Remember me for the vote!” The alien garbled. “You tell them I five-star cooking!”

 

McCoy looked lost as Jim waved goodbye at the alien and they joined the walking crowd once more.

 

“Rough neighborhood.” Jim commented with a smile.

 

“Mother always said not to take candy from strangers.” McCoy said looking at the thick, blue chunk on a stick. “Mother also said don’t eat anything this shade of blue.”

 

Spock held up his tricorder to McCoy’s blue-on-a-stick, it whistled briefly before he pulled it in, reading the results.

 

“It’s perfectly safe to consume, Doctor.” Spock insisted. “It’s consistency is that of a vegetable-based protein, with starch and fats; however I believe it rather high in sugar, a compound very popular with humanoids but not healthy in excess.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Spock. You’ve just ruined my appetite.” Doctor McCoy said.

 

McCoy didn’t protest as Spock reached out and plucked the food out of his hand. They watched him as he bit off the end and chewed thoughtfully.

 

“Mmm.” He made a deep noise of appreciation. “It’s quite good.” he assured them licking his lips.

 

McCoy stared at Spock’s curvy lips and felt a pull deep in the pit of his stomach.

 

“Bones, I do believe you’re drooling.” Jim mumbled to McCoy with a grin.

 

“Stop instigating.” McCoy snapped at Jim in a whisper.

 

“Would you like a bite, Doctor?” Spock offered.

 

“No I wouldn’t.” McCoy said ripping the food-stick out of Spock’s hand and throwing it in a nearby rubbish bin. “Didn’t you have a mother? Don’t eat blue foods, it’ll give you indigestion.”

 

Spock looked to Jim to offer a second opinion; Jim shook his head discretely to signal not to argue.

 

“Can we find a place to sit?” McCoy asked as the crowd pushed by them. “I can’t think with all these people kicking my heels behind me. I feel like I’m in a goddamn stampede.”

 

Jim nodded and looked around. There was a cafe near a large building with chairs outside- most were full but there was a small section that was clear. He signaled for them to close in, and they quickly swooped in to claim the seating.

 

“Our shot of finding these Romulans is looking like one in a million.” Jim said as they watched people pass.

 

“Four in three million, six hundred fifty two thousand-” Spock started.

 

“Spare us, please.” McCoy interrupted him. Spock seemed to swallow down his numbers reluctantly. “Jim, we need to narrow this search down somehow.”

 

“Agreed, let’s check-in, maybe our Scotsman has had better luck.” Jim said pulling out his communicator. He flipped it open. “Kirk to Enterprise.”

 

“Scott here.”

 

“How are things going on up there?” Jim asked.

 

“To be honest with ya sir, the crew is in a frenzy.” Scotty replied. “Turns out more than a few of them know about the delights of Alcor VII- you’re dangling the apple in front of their noses. If you don’t start sending shore leave parties down there’s gonna be a mutiny.”

 

“Alright,” Jim said after a pause. “I don’t think there’s any immediate danger here. Organize a few parties to send down, but I want a full crew at the bridge and in engineering.”

 

“Aye, sir.” Scotty replied.

 

“Have you heard anything from docking bay?” Jim asked.

 

“Nothing to report. If they landed there they did it without a permit.” Scotty said.

 

“...We’ll have to think of something else.” Jim fumed. “Kirk out.” he said shutting the communicator. “Damn.” he cursed.

 

“What I can’t understand is this,” McCoy said resting his chin on his hands. “If I was an assassin and I slaughtered an entire ship full of civilians, I wouldn’t be putzing around on another planet, I’d hightail it back to Romulan as fast as I could. Why come here to Alcor VII?”

 

“Yes I know, that’s been bothering me too.” Jim admitted. “The spy known as T’Pri must have been especially hated by their government. Betrayal invokes a unique sense of malice; our assassins would have been hailed as heroes for her execution, yes? So why waste time running home and claiming their glory?”

 

“Perhaps returning to Romulan isn’t an option for our assailants at this time.” Spock suggested.

 

Jim didn’t have to expand on the hopelessness of their mission as they watched people gather and flow. The last thing he wanted to do was report to the Federation that the assassins got away, but that was looking unavoidable by the second.

 

“I need something to eat.” Jim said running his hands over his head. He felt defeated, which was rare.

 

“That place looks popular.” McCoy remarked, nodding his head in the direction ahead.

 

The large crowds passing by was lining up outside a well-lit, marble-stone building. Shuttle crafts were dropping off groups of chefs which were being led inside as security teams waved people in.

 

“They must be holding a special event there.” Jim said. “Want to check it out?”

 

“Sure.” McCoy agreed.

 

When they approached the steadily moving crowd a man in a black uniform shouted, “Stand in an orderly fashion and have your passes out please!”

 

“Do you see a place to buy passes?” Jim asked. He was getting squeezed and shuffled around, so he grabbed both McCoy and Spock’s wrists to keep from being swept away.

 

“I do not see a ticket booth of any kind in this area.” Spock remarked.

 

“Oh my god- Jim, look!” McCoy said. He pointed straight ahead at a shuttle whose doors opened to reveal four Vulcans. They were wearing matching outfits and the security team was waving them through.

 

“Do you think it could be our Romulans?” Jim asked McCoy. “That would be incredible.”

 

“They’re a group of four, right?” McCoy said. “I haven’t seen any Vulcans here except ours.”

 

“Ours?” Spock mouthed questioningly to Jim.

 

“It’s worth checking out, I guess.” Jim said to McCoy with a smirk. “If it’s not them we could still eat here.”

 

“Fair enough. I’d have to get a biosample to rule them out though,” McCoy explained. “Their physiology’s too close to a Vulcan’s to tell without one.”

 

“The Doctor’s correct.” Spock said. “Even if we isolated them from the crowd, any tricorder readings could be easily misconstrued for Vulcan or Romulan.”

 

“Then it’s settled, we’ll eat here.” Kirk said.

 

The crowd was beginning to thin out finally, and when they reached the entrance a black-suited gentleman stood in their way. He seemed put-out by their absence of passes.

 

“Your passes, sirs.” He stated loudly.

 

“We don’t have them, where do we buy one?” Jim asked.

 

“You don’t.” He said tersely. “Invitation only.”

 

“So how do we get invited?” Jim said with a charming smile.

 

“Sirs, if you don’t have a pass you need to leave.” Came a smooth, feminine voice behind them.

 

The three of them turned and saw a short, blue, cat-woman with white whiskers. She was giving them a smug look, as if daring them to argue.

 

“We’re here on Starfleet business, I’m Captain Kirk-” Jim said rising to the bait.

 

“Ah, another Captain.” She interrupted him in a purr. “We have many guests from Starfleet here, and many more who believed holding rank in Starfleet means we should allow them to trespass. I suggest you and your friends leave now, Captain, before we embarrass you in front of your superiors and have you thrown out.”

 

“I think she just out-ranked you.” McCoy whispered to Jim.

 

“You don’t understand-” Jim said sternly.

 

Two large men appeared from the thinning crowd and stepped out from behind her. They flexed their muscles at threateningly.

 

“Jim…?” McCoy said unsure.

 

“We would prefer not to make a scene.” She said with a smirk. “But we are willing...”

 

Spock turned to Jim regretfully.

 

“Drawing negative attention to ourselves would not be the best course of action.” he advised Jim.

 

“Yes, I know.” Jim replied.

 

“Callo.” The cat-woman called holding up a clawed finger. A thick-necked brute stepped towards them.

 

“There’s no need for a spectacle.” Jim assured them, holding up his hands passively. “We’ll go.”

 

“Then get going.” Callo growled. The cat-woman laughed mockingly at them.

 

“We’re leaving, Jesus!” McCoy snapped at her. “Don’t have kittens.”

 

She snarled and showed her sharp little teeth at the Doctor as they backed away from the entrance.

 

“What now?” McCoy asked turning to Jim once they were far enough away.

 

“Yes, how are we going to get close enough to get a biosample?” Jim wondered aloud.

 

“I don’t know.” McCoy said. “Sneak past them, maybe?”

 

“Mother.” Spock said.

 

“Mother?” McCoy repeated.

 

“Spock!”

 

They turned to see an older woman dressed a long, flowing dress looking at them with astonishment. She rushed to them and broke into a joyous laugh before grabbing Spock’s hands in her own.

 

“It’s so lovely to see you, Spock!” His mother gushed. “What a wonderful surprise!”

 

“Yes, this is most unexpected.” Spock replied matching in her astonishment.

 

“I can’t believe we found each other.” Amanda said voicing their thoughts. “What are you doing here?” She asked them.

 

“We were here for the festival event but then we sort of got turned away.” Jim explained.

 

“Oh, that’s shame. Well... there are plenty of vendors outside; you’ll eat well here no matter where you go.” She said. “Sarek and I have been to quite a few restaurants in the area, I could give you recommendations.”

 

“Where is father?” Spock asked.

 

“He’s inside.” Amanda told them. “I’d fetch him for you but he’s rather busy negotiating trade agreements.”

 

“I hadn’t realized father was here on business.” Spock said.

 

“Yes, that started a few years ago.” Amanda said beaming. “The Alcor VII Food Festival is a perk of his job; we look forward to it every year. Your father helped solve a personal crisis for the director. Management was so thankful they always extend an invitation to Federation ambassadors now- it’s made Sarek very popular.” she laughed. “He always gets a tremendous amount of work done here. My theory is the food makes everyone more agreeable.”

 

“Mrs. Sarek,” Jim started. “Do you think you could talk to the director and negotiate three passes for us?”

 

“I could certainly try.” She replied. “I’m afraid the ambassadors are a special case though, these events are usually reserved for food critics.”

 

“It is very important that we attend this festival, mother.” Spock explained removing his hands from hers.

 

“Is there something wrong?” She asked, sensing the gravity of their words.

 

“We don’t quite know yet.” Jim admitted.

 

He looked past her to frown at the four ‘Vulcans’ who had returned to carry a large tray of culinary equipment inside the building. It didn’t go unnoticed by her, and she turned to see what he was looking at.

 

“Mrs. Sarek,” McCoy said seriously. “Do you know those four Vulcans chefs?”

 

“No, I’m afraid not...Vulcan is a rather big planet.” Amanda replied gently.

 

“We do not all know each other.” Spock clarified less diplomatically.

 

“Yeah, I got it-!” McCoy snapped at him with some embarrassment.

 

Amanda had a curious expression on her face, as if she were trying hard not to smile at McCoy’s faux pas.

 

“Amanda?”

 

“Sarek!” She replied holding up her hand so he could locate her. “Come see who I’ve found- Captain Kirk, the Doctor and our son!”

 

The three men stiffened when Sarek arrived by Amanda’s side. It was hard not to feel uncomfortable around a man so stoic and of his importance. Even Spock was standing taller once Sarek approached them.

 

“Ambassador.” Jim greeted him.

 

“Captain Kirk,” Sarek returned the greeting. “Has the Federation sent you here on business or pleasure?”

“A little bit of both.” Jim replied honestly.

 

“Sarek, they’re interested in attending the Festival,” Amanda said. She placed her hand on her husband’s shoulder affectionately. “I told him we’d speak to Mr. Price and try to get three passes.”

 

“Well...we don’t want to be a bother…” McCoy said letting a nervous laugh out as Sarek stared him down.

 

“But it would be a massively appreciated.” Jim pressed.

 

“...I’m sure something can be arranged.” Sarek said stiffly. “If you’ll excuse us, we need to get back. I will speak to the director regarding your passes.”

 

“Of course.” Jim said with a nod.

 

Spock wordlessly gave his father the Vulcan salute, which Sarek reciprocated after a pause.

 

“Come wife.” Sarek said holding up two fingers.

 

Amanda smiled at the three of them and joined two fingers with the ambassador. Once they had departed inside the building all three men let out a breath they had been holding.

 

“Do you think he’ll come through for us?” McCoy asked Spock.

 

“Doctor, my father has built his career on being persuasive.” Spock replied.

 

The three of them watched as guests poured into the building holding up their passes and being ushered inside. It wasn’t longer than five minutes when they saw Sarek come out to meet them with three passes in his hands.

 

“That was quick.” McCoy said with a grin.

 

“They had to set up another table for you.” Sarek informed them. “It will not be with the other guests. I hope that’s satisfactory.”

 

“That’s phenomenal.” Jim said handing the passes to Spock and McCoy. “You’ve really gotten us out of a tight spot. I owe you a favor.”

 

“I may take you up on that favor in the future, Captain.” Sarek said. “Now I must return to my wife.” He said with a nod.

 

* * *

 

 

They approached the line with confidence this time, only instead of the suited gentleman greeting them the cat-woman was standing in their way.

 

“You three again?” She hissed excitedly. She raised a furry hand and the three of them were immediately grappled by security.

 

“Oh-oh, wait a second-” McCoy shouted. “You can’t throw out three food critics with special passes! They set up a separate table for us!”

 

McCoy ripped his hands out of an arm lock and practically shoved his pass in her face.

 

“Those aren’t real!” She accused them. She slapped McCoy’s hand away. “Passes are issued months in advance, if you had real ones you would have shown me before.”

 

“You mean Mr. Price is handing out fake passes to his own event? How unethical.” Jim said mockingly as he struggled against a headlock. His words caused her to hesitate. The brute that had Jim in a headlock loosened it slightly. “What are you waiting for? Let’s call him over here and make him answer for this-”

 

“Hold out your passes!” She shrieked.

 

The security team let go of the three of them and they straightened. McCoy and Jim shared a smile as she scanned the three passes and they beeped their acceptance. Her whiskers twitched as she studied her scanning-monitor, obviously beaten by the men she found so abhorrent.

 

“Sorry for the inconvenience.” She said not sounding sorry at all. “Enjoy the event.” she added dryly.

 

“We’ll leave out a saucer of milk for you.” McCoy called to her as Jim dragged him inside.

 

Her fur stood on end as Jim let out a guilty laugh.

 

“Bones, don’t be racist.” Jim accused him.

 

“She started it.” McCoy snapped.

 

Staff was leading them down a long hallway and finally they were guided into a gigantic ballroom. Most of the noise bouncing off the walls came from a live band. Waitresses and waiters were hustling around tables and delivering dishes, avoiding the middle of the room which was devoted to a dance-floor that held a moderate attendance.

 

In the corner of the room chefs were cooking and unpacking their equipment. Jim watched as dishes were being carried off to tables by the wait staff. Most of the women were dressed in gowns, whereas the men were wearing suits or the equivalent thereof.

 

“I feel underdressed.” McCoy admitted as he tugged at his blue shirt. “No wonder that furball thought we were riffraff.”

 

Another person at the entrance checked their passes and led them to a small table which had obviously been placed last minute away from everyone. The salad course had already been served on their table, and cards asking for ratings were placed on their chairs.

 

“We might as well eat.” Jim said as they sat down.

 

“You go ahead and fill up on greens.” McCoy said to Jim. He passed his plate of salad to Spock.

 

Jim seemed to reconsider his plate of salad and also gave passed his plate to Spock.

 

“Captain, Doctor, we are supposed to judge the dishes.” Spock said holding up his card.

 

“We were tacked onto this circus; they don’t actually care about our opinion.” McCoy said with a shrug. Jim nodded encouragingly at Spock who was looking at the two of them in silent disapproval.

 

They were spared a rebuke as a server dropped off another dish before them.

 

“Looks like you’ve made some mistake; Isn’t this what they’re supposed to feed my food?” McCoy criticized as the server placed another plate of vegetables before him. “He’s the vegetarian,” McCoy said signaling Spock. “Why do you keep serving us salad? Is this right?”

 

“That is the correct dish, sir.” The sever replied with practiced patience.

 

“Do you want this?” McCoy asked Spock once the server left. He didn’t wait for an answer before picking up his plate and adding it to the pile before Spock.

 

“We can hardly keep up the pretense you are food critics if the both of you are passing every dish to me.” Spock pointed out.

 

“You may be here for the weeds, but I came here for the steak.” McCoy said.

 

“Spock’s not wrong, Bones.” Jim sighed. “We need to commit to our cover, even if it means eating things we normally wouldn’t. This mission requires an open mind.”

 

A waiter made it to their table and dropped a new dish in front of Jim.

 

“Your blood-jil soup, sir.” He announced before departing.

 

Jim’s mouth dropped in revulsion as the slippery, red appendages before him wiggled furiously, little red droplets spraying the sides of the bowl with every shimmy. His face blanched.

 

“You were saying?” McCoy sang.

 

“Oh that's foul.” Jim shuddered. “And I’d hate to meet the creature that eats this.”

 

“You mean that open-minded creature isn’t you?” McCoy teased.

 

“Shut up, Bones.”

 

Another waiter was on his way to deliver a bowl, and McCoy quickly took back the plate of greens he had pushed near Spock and placed it in front of him.

 

“I’m still working on this one, thanks.” McCoy said to the server with a smile as the waiter attempted to introduce another bowl of monstrosity to their table.

 

“Is the soup vegetarian?” Jim asked Spock hopefully.

 

Spock’s tricorder whistled from under the table.

 

“No.” Spock replied simply. “I would appreciate if the two of you stopped trying to pass me your unwanted dishes.”

 

McCoy openly laughed at his misfortune. Jim sulked briefly before his attentions were captured by something moving close to the dance floor.

 

“Look, there they are.” Jim said.

 

The ‘Vulcans’ were unpacking their cooking station near a slew of other competitors.

 

“We need that biosample.” Jim said. “If anything to confirm if they’re Vulcans or Romulans.”

 

“If our actions register to our hosts and our potential assassins as an attack, we may never be allowed to return to the festival.” Spock said.

 

“So we’ll need to make it look like an honest mistake.” McCoy said. His eyes shifted over the dance floor and the ‘Vulcan’s’ booth. “I have an idea.”

 

McCoy grabbed his fork off the table and hid it up his sleeve.

 

“We only need a little bit of blood.” McCoy said. “Spock, you’re a lot stronger than a regular man, if we get on the dance-floor can you pretend you got a little over-enthusiastic toss me into one of the Romulans?”

 

“We do not know if they are Romulans, Doctor. Also, I don’t know how successful I can be portraying enthusiasm-” Spock started.

 

“Hell’s bells, Spock, it’s a simple enough plan!” McCoy whispered. “Just don’t make it look like you threw me into one of them on purpose, can you do that?”

 

“I can try.” Spock said.

 

“Good luck.” Jim said as they slipped out of their seats.

 

Their Vulcans weren’t paying any mind to the commotion around them. McCoy and Spock weaved around the various couples who were moving to the music, occasionally stopping to dance to the beat if someone looked their way.

 

“Here is good.” McCoy said leaning in towards Spock. “I’m ready.”

 

They were on the edge of the dance floor and two yards away from the Vulcan group.

 

“Abort- wait-!” McCoy hissed at Spock. The music suddenly stalled from its frantic beat and switched over to something remarkably slower.

 

Spock halted in a jerky motion and instead grabbed onto McCoy’s forearms to stall the momentum he had built mid-push. He looked concerned at the sudden stop of their plan.

 

“Don’t worry about it; we’ll dance this one out until something livelier comes on.” McCoy whispered to him. “Here, put your hands on my waist.”

 

They looked around to see if their plot had been discovered.

 

“That man is holding the woman’s hand and placing his other hand on her hip.” Spock said nodding to the couple beside them.

 

“So what? We’re not them. And I don’t want your hands anywhere near my neck, okay?” McCoy said placing Spock’s hands on his hips. “I’ve been neck-pinched by you before, I always wake up dizzy with a splitting headache.”

 

“Rendering you unconscious would not be beneficial or logical at this time.” Spock told him.

 

“I don’t care, it’s a comfort-thing.” McCoy shot back. He placed his hands around Spock’s shoulders and began to sway to the music. Spock awkwardly side-stepped as McCoy turned. “What’s wrong? Haven’t you ever done a slow-dance before?”

 

“No.” Spock admitted. “It is not a dance native to Vulcan.”

 

“Jesus Christ, it’s no wonder the forces of nature foist pon farr upon your people.” McCoy whispered exasperated. “Look, it’s easy, you just-”

 

“A moment, Doctor.” Spock said holding a finger near to McCoy’s lips. The Doctor spied Spock watching the couple beside them dance for a few seconds. “I’ve calculated the movements, they are simple enough. Proceed.”

 

Spock once more slipped his hands onto McCoy’s hips and they danced.

 

The couple next to them must have been seasoned dancers, because the man was able to execute a superb dip of his partner. McCoy was only watching with passive interest, but instantly became alarmed as he realized Spock was studying them closely.

 

“No, don’t even think it- ugh-” McCoy groaned. Spock had taken initiative and dipped him low enough that he could look behind him. Jim was upside-down in his vision and giving him an excited grin and thumbs-up. “Alright, don’t be a show-off.” McCoy grumbled as Spock pulled him up.

 

McCoy noticed Spock had repositioned them differently- the gap between them was much smaller which made it harder for them to dance, but McCoy discovered he didn’t want to draw Spock’s attention to that.

 

“You know…” McCoy started clearing his throat. “I wouldn’t mind doing this again.”

 

“The probability of you having to poke a fork in renegade, Romulan assassins to collect a biosample again are astronomical, Doctor.” Spock replied quietly.

 

“Not that, I meant dancing.” McCoy huffed. “Why would I-”

 

Spock was looking his nose down at McCoy and slowly lifted an eyebrow.

 

“You were joking.” McCoy said in astonishment. “My god, you made a joke.” He said with a smile.

 

“Nonsense,” Spock said. “We both know I am quite incapable of such.”

 

McCoy laughed, which caught the attentions of Spock’s parents. Amanda was tilting her head in interest while Sarek was frowning at the pair of them. It felt reminiscent of when McCoy was a teenaged boy and had to have chaperones on dates- it was awkward then but it was a thousand times more awkward when Sarek, ambassador of Vulcan, watched them.

 

“Your parents aren’t going to think it’s, uh, weird that you’re slow-dancing with me, will they?” McCoy asked. “I mean I’m not getting you in trouble back home?”

 

“My father can hardly harbor a prejudice against humans.” Spock replied.

 

“I was thinking of a different prejudice, but if it didn’t occur to you then nevermind.” McCoy said. “Stop trying to lead, I’m leading.”

 

“My hands are on your waist giving me a wider range of control for pacing and position, it is much more logical for me to be the leader.” Spock replied. “You also have a slight drag on your right foot.”

 

“May I remind you my hands are around your neck?” McCoy replied. “And what do you know about dancing? You just learned to slow-dance two minutes ago.”

 

“If you want me to ask you to dance again, then you’ll let me lead.” Spock said.

 

“...Are you offering to take me out on a date?” McCoy said raising his eyebrows.

 

“I’ve left the decision up to you.” Spock replied.

 

“You’re either asking me out on a date or you’re not.” McCoy shot back.

 

“You will either allow me lead, or not.” Spock stated stoically.

 

“Stubborn, green-blooded Vulcan.” McCoy snapped. “Oh God damn it-” he swore as Spock dipped him again.

 

When Spock pulled him up he looked dangerously close to smiling.

 

“Fine- take the lead.” McCoy said moodily.

 

“Would you like to go dancing with me next shore leave, Doctor?” Spock asked.

 

“Yes.” McCoy snapped at him.

 

They danced in silence, which thankfully wasn’t as awkward as McCoy anticipated. Still, he didn’t want to just stare blankly at his dance partner like an ensign suffering a head injury. He brushed his hands over Spock’s shoulders trying to come up with something to say.

 

“ _What would Jim do if he was trying to lay on the charm?_ ” McCoy thought to himself. “ _Nevermind, Jim would probably be sucking his tongue and humping him on the dancefloor by now._ ”

 

They were in the presence of high society; he would have to go with something a little less intrusive if he didn’t want security to toss them out. McCoy thought it best to settle on a compliment instead.

 

“You really are a handsome fella, you know that?” McCoy told him.

 

The compliment must have taken Spock by surprise. A colored flush creeped over his cheeks giving them a greenish tinge.

 

“Thank you.” He replied in a near mumble.

 

“Well I’ll be damned, a blushing Vulcan.” McCoy said with an amused grin. “I’ve never seen that before.”

 

The song died down and there was polite clapping from everyone on the floor.

 

“I think that’s my cue to get tossed into another man’s arms.” McCoy drawled. “But don’t you worry, you’re in no danger of being replaced.” he added with a wink.

 

Spock’s flush went even deeper and he cleared his throat. “I will get you into position.” He said as the band played a song with a faster beat.

 

_I bet not even Jim can make a Vulcan blush._ McCoy thought smugly as he pulled out the fork from his sleeve.

“Doctor, are you ready?” Spock asked him as they shuffled in place.

 

One of the ‘Vulcan’s’ was tying an apron around his waist and was looking down at the knot he was making. The rest were pulling out pans doing prep-work, if they were going through with the plan they really couldn’t have chosen a better set-up.

 

“I’m ready, don’t be gentle I have to really make it look-” McCoy instructed.

 

Spock didn’t wait for him to finish his thought, which really added to shock and spontaneity of the Doctor losing balance. McCoy was shoved enthusiastically, and as he slammed into the ‘Vulcan’ he felt the points of the fork dig into the soft flesh. The man howled, causing his mates to look up from their prep and the people around them to stare.

 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” McCoy apologized as the ‘Vulcan’ violently shoved him off.

 

A spasm of fury flashed across the ‘Vulcan’s’ face, but only for a moment before it melted into a controlled grimace.

 

“It’s my partner’s fault, he got a little carried away. He only just learned how to dance.” McCoy laughed. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine.” The supposed Vulcan said with barred teeth. He clutched his arm where the fork had punctured his skin and gave McCoy a suspicious look before spitting something angrily in another language under his breath.

 

“Can I help you clean up?” McCoy offered. “I feel terrible-”

 

“Just go, you fool!” The man snarled.

 

McCoy bowed out wordlessly and was careful to keep the fork he hid away out of contact with anyone or anything. Spock travelled with him to their table, to which Jim was seated comfortably and placing a sliver of steak in his mouth.

 

“Oh Bones, you were right,” Jim said in between mouthfuls. “This is the best cut of meat I’ve ever had.”

 

“Where the hell is mine?” McCoy snapped in disappointment. His salad was still on the table and hadn’t been taken away.

 

“I told her to drop you off a plate but she insisted you be here.” Jim said apologetically. He leaned forward to catch sight of the irritated Vulcan-chef group. “Did you get it?”

 

“Yeah, I got it, see?” McCoy said holding up the fork.

 

Suddenly a hand reached out for the bloodied-fork and caused a wild thump of anxiety to grip McCoy. He wrenched it close to his chest and spun on a waitress who was looking dumbfounded.

 

“What in blazes do you think you’re doing!?” McCoy said angrily.

 

“Sir, your fork is dirty, I was only-” She explained.

 

“I know it’s dirty, I’m still using it.” McCoy said clutching it tightly.

 

“We’ll give you a new one for the next course.” She said politely. In her hand she was balancing a plate of perfectly cooked steak.

 

“I don’t want a new one, I want this one.” McCoy snapped at her. “I paid enough money to be here to use the forks I want to eat with- I’m a very influential food critic, dammit!”

 

“All the same, _sir_ , you cannot take our forks. We need them.” She said slowly as if talking to a child.

 

“It’s just a fork, you probably throw out ten a day!” McCoy argued. Her eyes widened as he bent the handle of it, careful to keep the bloody end out of contact with his hands. “See? It’s useless now; if you want I’ll buy it from you!” McCoy said.

 

“It is not an issue of price,” She said angrily, finally breaking through her polite mask. She set the tray on the table and crossed her arms defiantly across her chest. “It’s _our_ silverware that you have destroyed, and _we_ will dispose of it.”

 

Spock reached up behind her and pitched her neck. She gasped before dropping into Spock’s arms.

 

“Put her under the table.” Jim said in a rush. “Quickly before anyone notices.”

 

Jim got out of his chair and stood in front of them to block any onlookers as they scrambled to fit her body under the table.

 

“Whoa, wait a minute, I just kicked something over.” McCoy proclaimed. He lifted the tablecloth again and saw a bowl of spilled, wiggling noodles. “Is that your soup?” McCoy asked Jim.

 

“No time for questions.” Jim said hastily, avoiding McCoy’s eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”

 

“But the steak-” McCoy groaned. He cast a wistful glance at the plate that had been left for him by the unconscious server under the table.

 

“Bones!” Jim snapped at him. “Priorities.”

 

“I really hate you for doing this to me Jim.” McCoy barked. “Let it be noted in the official report to Starfleet that I passed up on an Alcor VII steak in the name of duty!”

 

“You’ll be decorated for it, I’m sure.” Jim said sarcastically as he hurried them away from the table. “If those are our Romulans we’ll be back.”

 

“They better be.” McCoy replied as they sped-walked away. “I better not be the only one suffering.”

 

* * *

 


	4. Sabotage

"This will be one bizarre arrest report." McCoy stated as he carefully strolled out of the transporter room with the bent, bloody fork in his hand. "The Federation will never invite us to a dinner again if they knew we risked shish-kabobing an innocent Vulcan for this."

"Yes you're right," Jim said thinking, "maybe some of the finer details can be omitted."

Spock and Jim walked on either side of McCoy as they journeyed to sick bay. They didn't want to take any chances something would contaminate their presumed evidence and took it upon them to gently shove officers out of the way as they walked by.

Besides a few curious stares and the look of silent indigence from those who were handled, McCoy arrived to the sick bay analyzer without incident.

"Alright," McCoy drawled. He placed the fork on his desk and donned a pair of sterilized gloves. "It's time to see if I'm a racist that stabbed a Vulcan for looking too Romulan."

The blood had long dried on the fork and McCoy deftly used a scalpel to scrape off the residue onto a clean slide. He was about to slip it into the computer for analysis when he felt breathing on the back of his neck. Both Spock and Jim were leaning over him, their eyes trained on the computer's monitor.

"Okay, gentlemen," McCoy said stiffening. "I know I'm your doctor, but that doesn't mean I invite knowing every little thing about your bodies, including the temperature of your breath. Spock I can feel you getting ready to answer the exact degree- let me just cut you off right here."

Spock pursed his lips together and straightened.

"Sorry." Jim apologized.

McCoy slipped the slide in the computer and told it to analyze. Lights flickered on the machine to indicate it's processing, and he took a moment to lean back in his chair to observe the look of intense concentration on his comrades. Whatever the result they were in this together.

The computer beeped and McCoy bent over the screen. His stomach tightened as he read the results.

"Jim….my God- it's them." McCoy proclaimed. "Look for yourself."

McCoy jumped out of his seat and clumsily bumped into Spock, who gripped his shoulders to keep him from stumbling. Jim took his place quickly and whispered the technical information on the screen.

"Are you positive it's not Vulcan?" Jim asked. "We don't want to look like fools in front of Starfleet."

"I'm quite sure," McCoy said with a grin. "We've got those Romulan bastards nailed and they don't even know it!"

"Excellent work, Bones." Jim congratulated him. "Bag the evidence; I'll tell our ensigns to stand by to make a formal arrest. The Federation may never allow our involvement to be known, but justice will be served."

"Figures I crack a case this big and no one can know about it." McCoy sighed.

"No one but us, Doctor." Spock clarified. "But I would not be so quick to dismiss our appreciation for your efforts."

Spock's thumbs ran over his shoulders; McCoy had been so enrapt in finding the assassins he hadn't realized Spock was still holding him in place from his previous stumble. He let out a dry chuckle as Jim smirked at the pair of them.

A whistle cut through their celebration and McCoy reluctantly stepped out of Spock's embrace. He reached out his hand and clicked on button below the intercom.

"Sickbay, McCoy!" He greeted joyously.

"Doctor, is the Captain there?" Uhura asked.

Jim nearly danced out of his seat before leaning against the wall and punching the com button.

"Kirk here." Jim said.

"Sir, I have Ambassador Sarek on a private frequency, he says it's important you take his call." Uhura informed him.

"Oh?" Jim said curiously. "Put him through in conference room 4B and tell him we'll be receiving him shortly."

"Yes Captain." Uhura replied.

* * *

When they reached the conference room Sarek was already on screen. If he hadn't blinked Jim would have mistaken him for a photograph. He had his hands folded in front of him and the stern expression he dawned didn't waiver as they stepped into the room.

Ambassador, hello again." Jim said with a friendly smile.

"Captain Kirk." Ambassador Sarek said the name with heavy meaning rather than a greeting.

Though very proper, the Ambassador's tone was unnaturally sharp for an emotionless Vulcan. Jim frowned and turned to Spock only to find his first officer recoiling slightly- Spock would undoubtedly be familiar with the Ambassador's mannerisms, and as Spock attempted to mask his concerned expression it confirmed it was not in Jim's imagination Sarek's tone was very unhappy.

"My wife and I have just had a very long and _fascinating_ conversation with the security team at the festival." Sarek proclaimed.

"Oh no..." McCoy groaned quietly under his breath.

"Apparently the three gentlemen I vouched for this evening's entertainment had disappeared from the premises, but not without leaving an unconscious server underneath their table next to an overturned bowl of blood-jil soup." Sarek continued.

The large, disapproving, subtle (yet potent) frown on the screen was boring into Jim and he looked to Spock to relieve some of the tension. Spock was pressing his lips together tightly, his hands folded behind his back and eyes unfocused. Jim glanced next to him to meet McCoy's worried eyes as he sucked in a breath through his teeth with a grimace.

"It was determined, by me, the woman had been incapacitated by the Vulcan neck-pinch." Sarek said, his stony gaze snapping over to his son. Spock looked like he was pouring all his effort into not looking at the screen. "She's quite upset. She said your medical officer attacked her to remain in possession of a fork... I wasn't able to explain the logic of the situation to the security team as to why men of my acquaintance would support such a thing."

The bloody fork was in a sealed bag in McCoy's hands. He slowly moved the fork behind his back while his ears burning bright red. Sarek's eyebrow rose at the action causing the back of McCoy's neck to turn red as well.

"Ambassador-" Jim fumbled.

"-Forgive me for interrupting you, Captain, but I find myself in an uncomfortable situation. The Alcor VII security team has kept us here but has agreed to release us if we can convince you to come in for questioning." Sarek said overriding Jim in a loud, clear voice. There was a note of extreme annoyance in it that could not be denied. "You have plans to arrive immediately and clear up this misunderstanding, correct?"

"Absolutely." Jim promised him. "We're so sorry for inconveniencing you and your wife, and we beg your forgiveness."

"Yes." Sarek replied dryly, "I suspect you will be hearing back from me soon regarding that favor you owe me."

Sarek didn't bid them goodbye, he only disconnected from the call. When the transmission ended the room was as quiet as the vacuum of space. Spock crept up behind McCoy.

"Now I am 'in trouble at home'." Spock said to him softly.

"Yeah…Jim, that part wasn't thought out so well." McCoy said.

"No, can't say it was, but what's done is done." Jim replied. "Spock, we still have our ensigns tailing the Romulans?"

"Yes sir, and awaiting further instruction." Spock noted.

"Good, we'll beam down and make a formal arrest with them as soon as the transporter is ready for us." Jim replied. "We can't risk the assassins slipping away, we'd never find them again."

"If we beam down that nutty Alcor security team will scoop us right up!" McCoy said. "Plus they've taken Spock's parents hostage. I kinda want to be on their good sides, you know...for _reasons_."

Spock lifted an eyebrow at McCoy that was intentionally ignored by the Doctor.

"Hm," Jim reflected, scratching the side of his face. "I'll call Truitt and have him explain our actions were necessary to the security team. And we should fill-in Spock's parents as to why they're being punished for our transgressions."

"Captain," Spock started, "Our orders were to operate in secrecy and involve crewmembers on a need-to-know basis. Sharing information with civilians on this mission is prohibited."

"They're not civilians, they're your parents." McCoy said. Spock frowned at him. "You know what I mean." he snapped.

"I think we could get away with telling your parents why they were taken-in for questioning and held accountable for our confusing behavior." Jim said. "But if it makes you uncomfortable bending the rules, Spock, we'll respect your decision to task yourself with avoiding giving them an explanation…even if they were to bring it up repeatedly...for the rest of their lives."

"Do Vulcans consider 'awkward' an emotion?" McCoy asked aloud. He folded his arms in front of him thoughtfully. "Or is that more of a situational occurrence?"

Spock took a heavy breath in and lifted his eyebrows as he reflected on their words.

"Perhaps an explanation is owed to them…" Spock said avoiding their eyes. "We know they can be trusted with sensitive information... they are my parents, after all."

Jim smirked. "That settles it then, I'll talk to Truitt. Be ready to beam down in twenty minutes."

* * *

"That took you a while." McCoy said as Jim sped walked onto the transporter platform.

The Doctor and Spock had been standing in the transporter room for almost an hour. Every second was another reason for Spock's parents to hate them, and McCoy had been getting increasingly nervous as the time dragged on.

"I had to wait until Truitt cleared us." Jim explained. "We really shook things up down there, they're not excited to have us back, nor are they thrilled to hold four of their chefs with our ensigns." He explained as he stepped on the transporter platform. He nodded at Spock. "Spock and I will arrest the Romulans. Bones, you can explain this mess to the Ambassador and his wife."

"Why me?" McCoy asked as they joined their Captain on the platform.

"You wanted a chance to get on their good sides, didn't you?" Jim replied. "Energize." he ordered.

When they beamed into the provided coordinates they materialized in a the same room they had 'dined' in, though the festivities had ended. Only staff remained and they were moving about, busy packing up tables, breaking down cooking stations, and glaring at their new arrivals.

The Alcor security team had shown up to meet them. They had their weapons at the ready when the three of them arrived, the catwoman was the only exception to this, though McCoy figured she probably didn't need one due to her vitriolic nature. Jim wasn't pleased by the show of aggression.

"Is this how you treat all your guests? With drawn weapons?" Jim asked her.

"Guests? No. We have the right to protect ourselves against rabble rousers." She groused. "You have a bad history here, Captain. Furthermore, your pardon for attacking a young woman is not an invitation to unsupervised reign. We are acting in our best interests."

"Where are my ensigns?" Jim asked.

"They're guarding the four well-mannered, Vulcan chefs." She told them.

"I've come to free the Vulcan Ambassador and his wife." McCoy announced.

The catwoman twisted behind her and waved to someone in the security team. A thin woman stepped forward, her eyes unfocused.

"Ara will take you to him." The cat purred. She turned to the woman. "Make sure he does not deviate from his task. This one is especially treacherous."

"Does this lady ever turn it off?" McCoy mumbled to Jim.

"Come with me." Ara said stepping in front of him.

"...See ya in a few." McCoy told Jim and Spock.

* * *

Ara had led McCoy down a stairwell into the building's basement. It was clean but cold, and he passed by staff that was eager to have him out of their way as they shuffled about.

"He is here." Ara announced suddenly.

She opened a locked door by pressing her fingers in a pattern on a pad hanging on the wall. The door popped open and she held it for him.

"Hello?" McCoy said entering the room.

Sarek was sitting on a metal chair in the middle of a barren room. He remained composed despite the bleakness of the atmosphere; he was sitting in excellent posture when McCoy stood in front of him.

"Where's the misses?" McCoy asked. "Don't tell me they split you two apart for questioning?"

"I've managed to negotiate my wife's return to our quarters," Sarek stated. "The Alcorians are most inflexible. They believed you would cause them much trouble, especially the lady Caitian."

"Well that fuzz-face can get stuck up a tree for all I care." McCoy huffed. Sarek's eyebrow didn't even wobble at the insult. Bones cleared his throat; he was embarrassed to have tried to inject anything remotely jovial in their conversation. "Don't worry, you'll be out of here soon, Ambassador." he said in a more serious tone.

"You were dancing with my son." Sarek stated the non-sequitur.

The conversation certainly took a U-turn away from what McCoy had in mind.

"Yeah, he's a, uh, pretty good dance partner." McCoy remarked. He wasn't sure if that was a compliment or something for a Vulcan to be ashamed about.

"Ah… a 'dance partner'." Sarek reflected. "You held each other as if you were partners in more than dancing. Would it be in error to ascertain the relationship between you two is a romantic one?" Sarek asked.

"Oh, ha ha…" McCoy said running a hand through his hair.

He desperately wished to be interrupted- he hadn't discussed with Spock how public they should make their relationship or what the official terms of it was. Christ, he'd even welcome that damn cat lady bursting in to bust his balls. Sarek looked unimpressed with his lame, vague response.

"Remember that unconscious woman under the table?" McCoy changed the subject. "I bet you're really confused about that."

"...There is much I am confused about, McCoy." Sarek admitted. "But it doesn't sound like you are equipped to give me answers." He said tonelessly. "At least, not satisfactory ones."

Strike two. Trust Spock's father to give him a splitting headache while trying to free him from the bounds of a power-tripping, food festival security team.

"While we're waiting for your release, I guess we should discuss why it was important for us to be at tonight's event." McCoy said. He was going to get this conversation back on the proper rails.

Sarek sighed. "I suppose."

McCoy launched into a detailed account of their mission. Slowly the Ambassador's expression went mild irritation, to blank, to one of fascination. After he had delivered his explanation Sarek pressed his steepled fingers against his chin. McCoy had seen that calculating look many times on Spock before.

"You say you found the Romulan spy dead on a ship named the _Ulysses_?" Sarek repeated.

"Yes sir." McCoy replied.

"Fascinating." Sarek spoke. "An acquaintance of mine was just informed of his son's death aboard that ship. He was attending the festival tonight and was distraught by the news."

Voices in the hallway interrupted their conversation, and McCoy saw Ara rush away from the door.

"What the hell?" McCoy swore as the yelling got louder.

Two Romulan chefs were launched into the room. McCoy caught a glimpse of Spock grappling with a third in the hallway; the security team was barking orders and must have been engaging with the fourth Romulan. Jim was taking heaving breaths as he jumped inside the room with them and blood was smeared across his face.

"Get behind me, Ambassador!" McCoy shouted. For once in his life he made a demand of a Vulcan and there wasn't a sassy remark or argument. Sarek listened to the advice and backed into the corner of the room as McCoy drew his phaser and pointed it at one of the Romulans.

The Romulan was an assassin, so of course his hand-to-hand combat skills were much more developed than an old country doctor's. In a blur the phaser went flying and McCoy knew in that moment he was woefully unprepared to take on a trained killer.

McCoy grabbed the metal chair behind him and put it up to his face just in time. The Romulan's fist collided with it causing a massive dent in the chair where his head was a few short seconds ago. Unfortunately his shield was slapped out of his hands just like the phaser was.

The Romulan's fist came hammering down. McCoy tried ducking and jumping backwards out of the way so as not to be caught in the most powerful part of the arc, but he miscalculated and the blow landed below his right collarbone. He dropped to his knees in agony.

Jim had gotten rid of his Romulan somehow and came up behind the one that had attacked McCoy. He delivered a swift, open-handed chop right between the assassin's shoulder blades which caused their attacker to round on the Captain.

"A hand-chop to the back? Is the human serious?" He snarled. Jim grimaced as strong Romulan hands grasped his wrist and twisted it. "What was that weak strike supposed to do- make me topple over!?" he laughed mockingly.

McCoy heard Jim scream in pain. Any moment now the Romulan would crush Jim and then turn on him. He was familiar with Spock's superhuman strength- their ending would be a painful and bloody one if luck didn't sway in their favor soon.

The vicious laughing halted in mid-breath, and Jim's scream wound down as the Romulan grunted in frustration. Ambassador Sarek had grabbed their attacker by the throat and used his other hand to strangle the nerve between his shoulder and neck. Slowly Sarek led the Romulan to the ground, he didn't go down as smoothly as McCoy had seen Spock lay people down before, but McCoy supposed it had something to do with Romulan hardiness.

"Are you injured, McCoy? Kirk?" Sarek asked them in a calm voice as they panted on the ground, nursing their wounds.

Jim turned to Bones and shook his head with a laugh.

"Vulcans." McCoy sighed with grimace.

* * *

"Captain, Ambassador Sarek would like a word with us." Spock informed him. "Privately." he added, his eyes flickering the Alcor VII security team.

The Caitian no longer was hassling them, instead she had turned her sights upon the four Romulans and focused all her desires to torment on them. Jim saw her place four bowls of wiggling blood-noodles before the prisoners and was glad to have an excuse to get away from the nauseating scene.

"I think I have uncovered all the parts to this mystery of yours." Sarek announced once they gathered around. He was seated on the dented chair. "I recommend you focus your report to Starfleet on Ryder Boswell."

"The young Earth man who was found with the Romulan spy." Spock recalled.

"Not precisely, Spock. The man you are speaking of was his son, Ryder Boswell Jr." Sarek said.

Spock's eyebrows raised. Apparently the Vulcans were getting something out of this that neither Jim nor McCoy could figure out.

"Ryder Boswell Senior is a politician of Terra." Sarek clarified, taking pity on the human's confusion. "Your people elected him to represent your interests to the Federation Council. His positions are often detrimental to the well-being of Romulan." Sarek informed them. "Most recently he spoke of placing heavy sanctions against their government to force negotiations in the Federation's favor."

Jim let out a long sigh. "Now it makes sense. The reason our assassins didn't leave for Romulan is because they weren't done killing, the job wasn't finished." Jim said. "But why kill his son?"

"The manifest did not reveal if the boy was a Boswell Junior or Senior." Spock said.

"We all had it wrong," McCoy said. "T'Pri wasn't the target."

"Although not their target, she may have had some idea of the assassin's peril." Spock spoke.

"She was trained to recognize a threat." McCoy said. "She died trying to protect him, that's why she was there."

"It would seem logical." Sarek agreed.

"That's awfully sad." McCoy said. "But I guess it shows there are good Romulans out there… kinda makes you question if all of your enemies are truly your enemies, or if that's just how you've accepted things."

"How very perceptive of you, McCoy." Sarek said. Jim gave Bones a pleased smile at the compliment. "If you excuse me, gentlemen, it has been a fascinating evening but not an entirely pleasant one."

He stood from his chair and turned to Spock.

"Before we part ways, I must make known a request of you." Sarek said. "Your mother wishes you visit us on Vulcan." He hesitated and lowered his voice slightly. "The Doctor is invited to join you in your visit as well. We would like to know him better if he is an important part of your life."

Spock lifted an eyebrow. The Vulcan salute came quickly from Sarek, which Spock eagerly returned. Clearly both men did not feel comfortable exploring the conversation further with one another.

"Live long and prosper, father." Spock spoke.

"Live long and prosper, my son." Sarek said back.

* * *

All Jim wanted to do was go to bed after the Romulans were thrown into the brig, but McCoy had wrangled the Captain and Spock into a check-up before sending them off. Thankfully the damage was minimal. Jim had a set of bruised ribs, McCoy just had an ugly contusion on his chest, and Spock got away with a few little scrapes and bruises.

"You're in tip-top shape." McCoy informed Spock. "Banged around a bit like me and Jim but you got the least pummeling out of all of us."

It was well past midnight Earth-time and they were the only ones in the sickbay diagnostic room. The rest of sickbay was being run by a skeleton crew.

"I was more physically matched to our assailants." Spock stated as he shuffled himself off the biobed.

"So you were." McCoy muttered. "And you could thank your dad for that, I know I do. He sure is handy in a fight. Jim and I would be a scrape under that Romulan's shoe if your father hadn't come to our rescue. I owe him an Alcor steak- right after I dine on my own of course."

"He would appreciate a steak just as much as I would, Doctor." Spock stated. "Which is to say, not very much. He also adheres to a vegetarian diet."

"You mean that insanity is hereditary?" McCoy joked shaking his head. "Speaking of your dad, he asked me if we were romantically involved with one another... I'm afraid I went into red alert. I didn't know what to tell him."

"You should have told him what is logical." Spock replied. "It is a fact we are romantically involved."

"Yes, but I didn't know if we're just dating or if we're in an official relationship…" McCoy said with a half shrug on his good side. "Or if we were just kissing and running away from each other." he joked.

"And what would you like our official status to be?" Spock asked.

"No, no, don't even try to pull that on me." McCoy said folding his hands behind his back. "I asked first, _you_ tell _me_ whatever this is between us."

Spock lifted his eyebrows and took a deep breath. McCoy could see the gears spinning in his mind.

"I would not be opposed to giving you the official label of…my boyfriend?" Spock offered.

McCoy grinned.

"Okay, I would like that." McCoy said. He couldn't resist rocking himself up briefly on his toes and down again in excitement. "Huh...perhaps we should christen our status with a kiss?"

Spock wordlessly held out his hand palm faced-up toward his new boyfriend. There was a ghost of a smile on his lips as McCoy joined their hands and was pulled into an embrace.

"I won't make any excuses after kissing you this time, Mr. Spock," McCoy said softly. "I really want this."

"As do I, Leonard." Spock assured him. McCoy felt his heart flutter from Spock calling him by his first name.

"I had my doubts..." McCoy said. "I mean, you drive me crazy with all that logic-talk and Vulcan pig-headedness, but you really know how to make me feel weak in the knees when it counts."

"Doctor, please do not sabotage the moment by talking too much." Spock replied playfully.

McCoy captured Spock's lips with his own and felt a surge of desperate passion between them. He thought for a species that claimed to have conquered emotion, Spock was pouring an awful lot of it into their kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while to finish. Sometimes I start to write in a direction (and I could go down that direction quite a while, days even) and then I discover I don't like where the story is going as much as I anticipated. I scrapped a few endings before writing this one. I really wanted to finish this strong and make it a worthy read.
> 
> I have to say, I'm shocked how much I enjoy writing Sarek. He is deceptively edgy.
> 
> Also, if you watch TOS it is ridiculous how made-of-glass the enemies are that a single karate chop to the back makes them pass out. I mean, this is a show that said, "we want to make the science in science fiction feel believable" and made it a habit to knock people out with a firm pat on the back. Ha ha!
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for reading my fic. It gives me pleasure to know if you enjoyed it, so even just a short little 'bravo' would be massively appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I’ve been a lifelong fan of Star Trek, and I really wanted to write this like it was an actual episode (with my spin on it of course). If you liked it please let me know!


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